Origin of the Species
by the morrighan
Summary: The Atlantis team finds a world where the Wraith may have begun...or ended. All characters are the property of MGM and their respective writers/creators.


Origin of the Species

Brown.

The color filled the screen, a mass of rippling fur and muscles. Variegated stripes of black and beige alternated. Suddenly the screen cleared to reveal a large animal. Its back reached to the top of the MALP as it stood, snuffling the ground. A shaggy mane crowned the top its enormous head and ran all the way down to the short tail. Cloven hooves clawed the ground. The huge head lifted. A long muzzle was lined with sharp rows of teeth, including two sets of impressive canines. Two above and two below. Beneath the tiny eyes strange fleshy horns protruded from the narrow face. Tiny ears flicked. Bony bumps ran along the jaw.

Silence engulfed the conference room. All eyes were glued to the monitor, transfixed by the images playing on the screen. The absence of sound stretched and stretched. Until Rodney McKay could no longer stand it.

The scientist cleared his throat with a stuttering cough. He launched into an explanation, mid-sentence. "...and it took two people to dial the address. Two people with the ATA gene. Apparently the dialing sequence on this particular planet requires two Ancient gene recognition codes which we found out quite by accident. Funny story, actually. I couldn't get the 'Gate to dial up the address but when Carson stumbled and caught himself by touching the dialing mechanism at the same time I did the 'Gate lit up and completed the address."

Rodney's voice faltered, seemingly running out of steam, but as if catching his breath he resumed. "The dialing sequences, as I said, have a peculiar restriction. Oh, and another thing. Next to the address in the database there was the legend _Hic sunt dracones. _Here be dragons, or translated more loosely–"

"Here be monsters," John Sheppard finished quietly, eyes not on the rambling scientist but on the telemetry display screen. On the bizarre creature.

"Yes, yes, here be monsters. Like what ancient mariners engraved on old maps to designate unknown regions. I assumed the reference was to the Wraith but I was apparently mistaken."

"Wrong," corrected Evan Lorne. He rose to his feet, glancing at the rest. "I will go get Doctor O'Meara." He circled the table and was gone.

"O'Meara...O'Meara...how do I know that name?" John mused, briefly glancing at Elizabeth Weir who seemed transfixed by the moving image of the beast.

"Doctor O'Meara advised us to kill you. Twice," Carson Beckett answered in his Scottish lilt, voice full of humor.

"Really? I like this doctor already," Rodney quipped. He met John's narrowed gaze with a smirk, then took his seat.

"It wasn't personal, Colonel," Carson continued, ignoring Rodney's jest and meeting John's inquiring expression. "It was to save your life. Once when you were attacked by the Iratus bug and once when you were being converted by the retro-virus."

"The medical reports." John finally recalled his familiarity with the name. "A member of your staff, doctor?"

"No, actually."

"What the hell is that?" Elizabeth asked, finally mentioning the beast on the screen. Now that the shock and mystery had been dispersed by dialogue she brought the team's attention back to the matter at hand.

"_Enteldon deguilhemi, _genus _Enteldon._" Moira O'Meara answered. Transfixed by the image on the screen she stood frozen in the doorway. Her soft American voice broke the spell.

"Entelo what?" John asked, gaze assessing the woman in the doorway. Long brown hair caught in a ponytail that snaked down her back. Green t-shirt and khaki pants enclosing a pleasing, curvy form. But it was her expression that made John stare, so intense, so serious, so astonished all at once.

A gentle nudge from Evan behind her propelled Moira into the room. "_Entelodon deguilhemi_," she repeated, as if that explained everything. Rapt gaze still on the screen. "An early carnivore from the Oglicene, thirty-four million years ago. It is extinct."

"Not anymore, apparently," Rodney needlessly remarked.

"Teyla, have you ever encountered anything like this?" Elizabeth asked.

"No, Doctor Weir. Never. On any planet," the Athosian confirmed, as puzzled as the rest.

"Can the MALP retract its zoom lens to see–" Carson suggested.

"It is retracted," John stated, glancing at the readout in front of Rodney.

"_Enteledont_ skeletons have been measured up to five feet in height at the shoulder, with enormous heads up to thirty-nine inches in length," Moira supplied.

A gasp circled the room as the animal shook his head, long teeth flashing. The MALP listed to one side, then straightened as the animal heavily walked out of view. The screen displayed a rolling field. Tall waving golden grasses and massive deciduous trees filled the screen. Off to one side the DHD stood, intact. Undisturbed.

"This wasn't M1M-316, was it? The T-rex planet?" asked John, gaze still on Moira.

"No. This is a new address," Rodney stated.

"And that was no dinosaur," Evan observed, stepping round Moira, "but an extinct mammal."

"So the Ancients seeded this planet with prehistoric mammals?" John frowned.

"What else, one wonders," Elizabeth mused with a soft smile.

"This is extraordinary!" Moira exclaimed. "If this planet has been seeded with megafauna we could actually observe the evolutionary process itself! Maybe even conclude if climate change or the emergence of modern humans led to the extinction events of–"

"Doctor O'Meara is our resident zoologist," Evan explained, interrupting her enthusiasm.

"Evolutionary paleozoologist," she corrected.

"Ah!" Rodney snapped his fingers. "The crypto!" he declared with a smile. "I heard about you. The cryptozoologist chasing after monsters and fairy tales like the Loch Ness monster!"

"Nessie is real!" intoned Moira and Carson at the same time. They exchanged a glance. A smile.

"Oh, come on, Carson! You are a scientist, well, as close to one as a medical doctor can be," Rodney ranted, "and you are telling me you truly believe in the Loch Ness monster?"

"Of course," Carson reiterated calmly. "I have even seen it."

"And after how many pints of Guinness?"

"Gentlemen!" Elizabeth intervened. "Irregardless of Nessie, what we have here is living, breathing proof that the Ancients visited Earth much, much earlier than any of us could have possibly imagined!"

"Talk about being Ancient," quipped Evan.

"Doctor Weir, we cannot ignore this opportunity," Moira urged. "The knowledge alone that could be gained from the life on that planet would be immeasurable!"

"You have a go," Elizabeth smiled. "Major Lorne, prep your team."

"Yes, ma'am. Moira, we have a go." Touching her arm he guided her out of the conference room.

As the rest of the group filed out John lingered. Turned to the city's leader. "Elizabeth, you don't need me for anything, do you?"

Elizabeth raised her brows. "Need you? No," she said slowly, guessing his intention.

"And if you did you could always radio me. And my team is on downtime," he continued in a slightly persuasive, nonchalant voice.

"Yes, that is true."

John smiled.

Evan cradled his P90 on his right arm, satisfied as he surveyed his team. Lionel Bath and Aaron Josephes were armed as well, standing at ease near the Stargate. As each chevron engaged in a blue glow Moira impatiently fidgeted, bag slung over her one shoulder. Thomas Kavanaugh eyed the 'Gate and his handheld Ancient device cautiously, adjusting the settings.

John strolled into the Gateroom. Instantly the three military men straightened at attention.

"Colonel Sheppard," Evan greeted, a hint of puzzlement in his voice.

"At ease, major," John stated, waving off formalities. "Mind if I tag along?" he asked laconically. Seeing Thomas a frown appeared on his face.

"Of course not, sir. If you don't mind slumming with a lower echelon team."

The last chevron locked into place. A KAWOOSH erupted from the Stargate. The shimmering liquid barrier invited ingress.

"I wouldn't call your team that," John mildly rebuked, eyes moving to Moira. "It's your team, your mission, major," he prompted.

"Yes, sir. All right, Bath, Josephes, take point. Kavanaugh, O'Meara," he gestured. "The colonel and I will take the six."

Stepping out of the matter stream intact Moira quickly headed past the tilted MALP to stare at the surroundings. Tall grasses swept by a warm wind spread out for miles, broken only by the deciduous greenery reaching towards the azure sky. A hint of moisture tainted the rich, heavily oxygenated air. The sun was close to the planet, beat heavily in waves of warmth.

"Welcome to Miocene Park," announced Evan, expansively spreading his arms. He grinned at Moira who smiled at him.

Seeing the exchange John stepped to her other side. "Don't you mean Pleistocene?"

"No, colonel. Evan is correct. So far what we have seen evolved in the Tertiary Period, which includes the Eocene, Oligocene, and the Miocene. The Pleistocene is part of the Quaternary Period which is our own–"

"O'Meara," Evan warned, making a circle motion with his index finger as he pointed at her. "Dial it down. The last thing the colonel wants is a paleontology lecture." He smiled.

Moira smiled. "Yes, major."

John eyed them, their easy camaraderie, said, "That's all right, Lorne. I wouldn't mind a paleontology lecture out here. I wouldn't mind knowing more about–"

"Trust me, sir, you would," Evan quipped with a sigh. Ignored the dirty look Moira shot at him.

Bath and Josephes angled from the deserted 'Gate, P90s at the ready. Stony-faced they observed the empty plain, the empty skies.

"Massive biological readings, but I am not detecting any technology. No buildings. No unnatural or man-made structures," Thomas informed the team. He took a stuttering breath. "The air is thick."

"With oxygen. A higher concentration. No pollutants," Moira explained. "It's pristine."

"DHD is intact and operational, just like the MALP recorded," Evan confirmed, circling round it. "I wonder if there is some kind of barrier here to protect the 'Gate and the DHD from the wildlife."

"Why build a 'Gate when there are no people?" wondered John, coming to stand next to Moira as she moved towards the open plain, stopped. "Unless it was only for Ancient usage."

"The planet may never have been seeded with humans," suggested Thomas. "Although it appears to be conducive to supporting human life."

"Even with the thick atmosphere and the warmth," John concurred, tugging at his jacket. The sun was beating down mercilessly.

Moira nodded, turning with a camcorder in her hands to film the area. "Presuming this planet is ideally suited to support prehistoric life the climate should match Earth's at that time. A heavier concentration of oxygen and a warmer climate. Geographic changes led to the natural selection of larger animals, even when the polar caps shifted to–"

An ear-piercing trumpeting rent the humid air. Everyone grimaced at the high-pitched sound. So loud it reverberated on the air like a living thing.

"What the hell was–" John was interrupted by the ground quaking beneath his boots.

"Everyone down! Everyone down!" Evan shouted. The team shrank back to the 'Gate. Dropped to their knees. Guns were held at the ready.

A monstrous beast strolled into the middle distance. Grasses swayed and shivered as more of the animals strolled. Looking like a weird variant of a rhinoceros, but larger at eight feet at the shoulder the gray-skinned beasts trod methodically. Two strange horns jutted up from their snouts, forming a fleshy Y shape above the eyes. The ground shook as they passed.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" Moira urged, rising to her feet as all four military men trained their weapons on the herd. "It's a herd of _Brontotheres. Megacerops coloradensis_, or _bronthotherium._ They are herbivores."

"Those...are herbivores?" asked Aaron, clearing not believing her. The young lieutenant's eyes were huge with shock and dismay.

"I think," she admitted.

"You think?" John queried, moving to his feet beside her.

She met his gaze. "Yes. It's not as if I have ever studied these animals in person, colonel. But I am certain they are herbivores." She stared a moment at his handsome face, intent green eyes before looking past the herd. "But those aren't." Her voice fell into a whisper.

Two smilodons trailed the herd, looking for any weak or young to hunt. The spotted, large cats were sleek, each sporting impressive sabertooth fangs jutting out of their mouths. Tails swishing the grasses behind them they soon disappeared from view.

"Sabertooth tigers. Oh my," John noted, smiling. "Stand down. Stand down."

Weapons lowered the team re-gained their footing. Stillness resumed. Only to be broken by the thousand cries of a flock of birds. Taking flight the numerous bodies temporarily blocked the sunlight. Once more Evan gestured and the two marines lowered their weapons.

"What is the best way to proceed? Besides cautiously," Evan inquired.

Moira considered. "We are the intruders here. If my guess is correct these animals have never seen a human. They will have no fear. We are the prey, not the predator. Like our ancestors."

"I'm picking up an energy reading!" Thomas announced.

"I thought you said there were no energy readings," John accused.

"Well, there are now. A low EM pulse. Could be a ZPM but on a very low frequency. This way." Thomas headed towards an incline, eyes glued to the data screen.

"All right. It's as good as any other heading. This way. Bath, take point. Josephes, flank us. It's better to be safe than sorry here," Evan ordered, glancing at his colonel for confirmation.

John nodded. "I'll take the six."

"Yes, sir. Let's head out."

****************************************************************************

It's a distress signal," Radek Zelenka explained, pointing at the screen. The small emission burped as a green line jumped. "From the Hoffans' planet. It's been repeating for over an hour."

"How is that possible?" Elizabeth asked, walking over to view the jumping signal.

Rodney's fingers flew over the console. "It is faint but it is detectable. I'm surprised you detected it all, Radek," he quipped. Hungry and irritable.

"Yes, it is as if I knew how to operate these systems," Radek replied curtly.

"It could be a trap," Ronon Dex suggested. He glared at the monitor.

"After so long to hear from the Hoffans. It does not make any sense," Teyla stated. "We did not part from them on the best of terms."

"Unless they somehow survived a Wraith attack. Which seems implausible," Rodney agreed.

"If they did their intel could be invaluable," Steven Caldwell realized, joining them. "And if they somehow perfected that serum of theirs we could acquire it. I will lead Sheppard's team to investigate the–"

"I could always send a message to retrieve him from–" Elizabeth offered, seeing the look of consternation on Rodney's face.

"There may not be time," Steven argued. "The signal is growing weaker. If it is a trap we will immediately evacuate. If it is a genuine appeal for help we need to find out what we can. The Hoffans may have made improvements to their drug."

"We do need to find out what happened to them," Carson somberly intervened, expression grave.

"Whatever their fate may have been."

"All right. Send a MALP to determine conditions," Elizabeth decided. She glanced at the team, shrugged apologetically as Rodney winced.

***************************************************************************

Sunlight filtered brightly in and out of the trees. The stripling pattern danced over the long grasses and ferns, blown gently by a persistent warm wind. John wiped his brow with his free hand as he strolled next to Moira. The other rested comfortably on his P90. "Tell me," he invited, watching her long ponytail shift in the breeze, "what can we expect?"

Moira's eyes were taking in everything, were on everything but him. "Anything. Everything. Depending upon what epoch animals were taken from Earth we could see anything. Theoretically we could see animals that did not exist at the same time on Earth but do here. They could have thrived here without the pressures of climate change or catastrophic events, or human predation, or–"

"Theoretically?" John cut off the scientist's rambling enthusiasm.

"Yes." She paused. The ground was clearing out of the trees, slowly rising beneath their feet to form an incline. Longer grasses gave way to stubble and spiky bushes. Shielding her eyes she scanned the expanse of greenery ahead of them.

"So...theoretically should I be expecting to find a pair of tall, wooden gates and a giant ape expecting a bride?"

Moira smiled, meeting his earnest gaze. His green eyes sparkled with amusement. "No. I'm afraid that film, although excellent, was purely imaginative."

"Oh. Too bad. We could have made a fortune in New York," he quipped.

"Actually," she clarified as they resumed walking, "a giant ape did exist. _Gigantopithecus_, which was at least eight and a half feet tall and weighed up to six hundred pounds. Some theorize that remnant populations of surviving subspecies could be responsible for the Bigfoot and Sasquatch sightings in North America."

"Interesting...hey, what's the hold-up?" John asked as they reached the rest of the team.

Everyone had stopped ahead of them at the crest of the incline.

"Colonel, it seems Kavanaugh lost his bearings," Evan explained, trying not to smirk.

"I did not lose them, major. There is some kind of interference. The signal is weak at best. Just a second. Let me re-calibrate," he muttered, head bent to view the scanner.

"All right. Take five, everyone. I wish there was a drink stand somewhere," Evan complained, fishing in his pack for a water bottle. He took a sip as the two marines fanned out to the shade, doing likewise. "Sir?"

John joined him, fished in his own pack and took long, satisfying swallows of water. "What do you make of all of this, major?" he asked, licking his lips. Suddenly noticed Moira staring at him before she turned away to step toward the shade, camcorder raised.

"Uh...it's remarkable, sir. A virtual Eden...or pre-Eden, if you will."

Thomas sidled up next to the paleozoologist as she was busily filming a scurrying animal in a tree. "Moira," he said quietly, glancing over his shoulder, "why do you think Colonel Sheppard is here with us?"

Moira glanced at him, shrugged. "I don't know."

"I think he's here to evaluate the team and Major Lorne. Could that be it?" He looked over at Aaron who joined them. "Is that military protocol?"

Aaron shrugged. "Could be. It's been known to happen."

All three turned to watch John as he spoke with Evan. Voices low but calm.

"Well, I could always just go ask him," she suggested.

"What?" Thomas eyed her. "And you think he would tell you, just like that?"

She considered, gaze moving back to the two men conversing quietly. Studied the colonel's seemingly casual stance, yet the P90 was slung over his arm, in easy reach. Booted feet firmly on the ground. Gray pants revealing the length of his legs in their relaxed pose. He had stripped off his gray jacket, stuffed in into his pack, revealing his black t-shirt molded to his long, lean torso, waist. He took a long swallow of the water, tilting his head back. "What? Oh, yes, yes, I think he would," she stammered, growing serious as she adjusted the camcorder in her hands.

"If anyone can get the truth out of him it's you. Just bat your eyelashes and use that runaway, zoological terminology on him," Aaron suggested with a grin. "I hear he is quite the ladies' man, you know, so..."

"Shut up, Aaron," she scolded mildly, but all laughed.

Hearing their laughter both men turned to view the group. John particularly noticed Moira's intent, sudden gaze. Her long hair swinging in the breeze. The green t-shirt snug over her curves. The khaki pants framing a very round, pleasing rear as she turned, leaned over to pick up the strap that had fallen from the camcorder.

Evan approached them, appearing stern. "Something I missed?"

"No, sir. I will go back on point," Aaron said, retreating after a shared smile with Moira.

"Still trying to trace the anomalous signal," Thomas informed, head bent over his instrument.

"Still studying the furry anomalies," Moira stated, smiled, turned and moved along the tree-line. Evan shook his head, smiled.

"What the bloody hell is that?" Bath snapped, pointing with his gun into the tree. In the boughs a creature flitted with rapid motions.

Moira paused, looked up into the higher branches. A small, lemur-like creature with blond fur blinked at her with golden eyes. "Careful there, Bath, you don't want to insult of your own ancestors."

Thomas snorted with amusement.

"What's so funny, four eyes?" Lionel growled.

Thomas mumbled, "Nothing." His amusement faded. He moved away from them, adjusting his glasses, his screen.

Lionel smiled. Stepped after Moira who was filming the creature. "You really believe that man descended from those things? That man descended from apes?"

She sighed, eyes on the camcorder and the creature being filmed. "Why is this concept so difficult for you to understand? Man did not evolve from apes. We are the on the same family tree but not direct descendants. This creature here is an early primate, possibly _Northarctus tenebrosus_, from the family _Adapidae._ An ancestor al all primates, including us."

"Bullshit. I'll prove it." He lifted his gun. "I'll kill the little wanker and see if we still exist."

She lowered the camcorder, angry. "No! You can't just kill–"

"Watch me. Are you going to stop me? No," he taunted, blocking her, intimidating as he towered over her,"don't go crying for your pretty-boy major this time."

"All right! Maybe I was wrong," she conceded. "You didn't descend from primates. Their brain capacity far exceeds yours."

He glared at her. "I'm going to shoot that little shit, then skin him alive, just for you, Mara," he deliberately mispronounced her name. "Make myself a pair of gloves."

"Why are you so hateful, Bath?" she snapped, shoving the camcorder into her pack. "Is that what the marines taught you? Kill, kill and kill?"

"Yes. I am a soldier," he growled. He stepped closer, making her stumble back into the tree. "Animals are for killing, Mara. And women...women are for fu–" He never finished the word as a 9mm handgun's barrel was pressed against his temple.

"I wouldn't complete that word, lieutenant," John said sternly, holding the gun. He had been following, overheard the conversation and only now intervened.

"You know how it is, sir, these damn scientists and their arrogant, uppity–" Lionel stopped again as John clicked off the safety.

"I would strongly suggest you just stop talking altogether, lieutenant," John said, steel in his voice, in his eyes. "Unless you want me to splatter your brains all over this primeval tree. Do you?" Silence. "Good. I'll take that as a no, then."

"Sir?" Evan was running towards them, staring at the odd confrontation. Moira backed into a tree, staring at John who held a gun to Lionel's head.

John waited. He clicked on the safety, lowered the weapon. Holstered it. "I catch you talking to Doctor O'Meara like that, or to anyone like that again and I'll demote your ass all the way back to Earth. Got it?"

"Yes, sir." Lionel turned slowly, glared at Moira before schooling his expression into neutral.

"And if you so much as throw a rock at any animal here without my direct order, or Major Lorne's you will be permanently demoted. Go relieve Josephes on point."

"Yes, sir." Bath saluted, marched into the trees.

John watched him go, then relaxed his expression as he turned to Moira. Instead of gratitude he saw exasperation. "Moira–"

"You didn't have to do that, colonel. I mean, I do appreciate the interruption but now you've just gone and made things worse."

"Sir? Moira, what–" Evan asked.

John swung round to him. "How long as this been going on, major? How long have you allowed a subordinate to berate and insult a member of your team?"

"It's not his fault, colonel," Moira said, touching his arm. Felt the warmth. The strength. "It only happened today."

"Bath? Again?" Evan asked, meeting her gaze.

"Again?" John echoed. "There should never have been a second time, major! You–"

"It's his usual ranting and hateful spite to rile me," she explained to Evan. "You know. But the last part...he's never gone that far before..." she realized, glanced at John with sudden gratitude.

John missed it as he eyed Evan.

"What last part? What did he say to you? Colonel?"

"This problem should have been handled the first time, major. Once we return to Atlantis Lieutenant Bath will be permanently reassigned to another team. If he is allowed on another team. I want a full report on this man, including all complaints as well."

"Yes, sir." He glanced at Moira. "I'm sorry, Moira. I thought his was handled."

"Evidently not," John noted sourly.

"So did I," she agreed. "It's all right. This place, so full of life, brings out the worst in him. As do I," she ruefully commented. "We won't allow him to spoil this wonderful place." Suddenly she freed John's arm, not realizing she had been holding onto him the whole time.

"I'll go hurry along Kavanaugh," Evan decided, hastened towards the scientist.

John turned to her, feeling her fingers slide off his skin. "Are you sure you're all right?"

She smiled. "I'm fine, colonel." She hesitated, touched his arm again. "Thank you." He smiled, strolled with her. "Colonel Sheppard, may I ask you something?"

"Of course, Moira, but only if you call me John."

"John," she said with a smile, "did you accompany us to evaluate Major Lorne and his team?"

John stopped, smiled. "Ah...that was what the pow-wow was earlier."

"Yes."

He considered. "It seemed like an excellent opportunity," he admitted. "And it looks like I chose a good time to do so. Mostly, however, I was intrigued."

"Intrigued?" she asked, puzzled. "By the planet? By the abundance of prehistoric megafauna?"

"Yes. And the team," he agreed with a dazzling smile, a flirtatious tilt to his head. He turned suddenly, eyed the rest of the team congregated on the crest of the hill. "Let's go see if Kavanaugh has had any luck." John led Moira past the screen of trees to the group of men clustered around the long-haired scientist. He glanced around, gaze passing quickly over the sprawling greenery and grasses. "Listen."

At the colonel's suggestion everyone looked around. The wind ruffled the shrubs, the enormous leaves. Whispered in the impossibly tall branches.

"I don't hear anything," Evan remarked, hand sliding to his weapon. With a hand gesture he called the two marines to strict attention. The two men stared at the surroundings, searching for anything suspicious.

"Exactly," John stated. "With a planet teeming with this much life we should be hearing a virtual symphony of noise, like we did earlier. Now...there's nothing."

"Twelve o'clock!"

Guns swung round, upraised at Bath's shout. Quickly the marines formed a defensive circle around the two scientists. "What is it, Bath?" asked Evan.

"I don't know, sir. I thought I saw..." the man's voice trailed off into uncertainty.

"I know. I had the strangest feeling that something was stalking us. And now...stay sharp. Move slowly, towards the higher ground," John ordered.

"Bath, Josephes, form a tight perimeter," Evan ordered, stepping back to cover their retreat.

"Several predators hunt in packs. _Smilidon, canis lupus, thylacoleo carnifex, epicyon haydeni,\_ even the giant birds were theorized to–"

"Stay sharp," interrupted John. "Kavanaugh, how's that signal?"

"I have it now! Over this incline and due west. About twenty kilometers...more or less." Thomas barely raised his head from his screen as he led the group.

Bath abruptly swerved and fired into the bushes. The gunfire rattled loudly in the heavy air. "I saw it, sir!"

"Don't shoot!" Moira protested.

A snarling susurration filled the fetid air. Glimpses of tawny forms slunk in the cover of the thick bushes. Abruptly a pack of dogs emerged. Most were the size of small lions, with short muzzles full of glistening teeth. Their tawny, reddish coats blended beautifully with the shrubs and short grasses.

"Okay, easy," John advised. "Up the ridge. Nice and easy."

"Don't shoot! John, please," Moira pleaded, touching his arm as it braced the P90. "Don't kill them. You can just scare them away, please. They are canids, the _borophagine _dogs, extinct bone-eaters from around two million years ago. This, this looks like _Epicyon haydeni,_ you can't kill an extinct species!"

"We'll be extinct if we don't defend ourselves," he countered, meeting her gaze. Studied her brown eyes, the green flecks catching the sunlight. Decided. "Lay down ground cover."

"Sir? Those are bloody big dogs!" Bath objected.

"Yes, lieutenant, they are. We'll just scare them off for now."

Instantly a hail of bullets riddled the ground near the snarling pack. The dogs yelped and growled. Fled into the bushes, tails between their legs.

"Thank you," Moira said softly.

"Moira! You won't believe this!" Thomas exclaimed, oblivious to the commotion and danger. The scientist was standing at the top of the ridge, looking up from his data screen. He gesticulated wildly. "I found the source of the signal, but we can't get there. Not by this route anyhow."

All reached the top of the ridge. Miles away stood a dilapidated tower. Its shredded stone structure was reminiscent of Ancient design.

"Looks like there were humans here at some time. Probably Ancients, I would surmise,"Thomas continued. "With any luck that tower holds a power source, maybe even a ZPM."

Everyone else was staring at the valley spreading beneath them. A lush river lazily wound through the swaying grasses and swampy ground. Tall trees dotted the plain, long boughs trailing down to the water. A profusion of flowers bloomed pink and white along one riverbank. The water glittered blindly in the sunlight.

The plain was full of animals. Animals no one has ever seen alive. A herd of deer with enormous antlers. Elephant-like creatures with two sets of tusks. A tiny herd of miniature horses. Giant sloths stretching impossible heights to reach the tops of the trees. Huge claws yanked branches down to their tactile tongues. Across the meandering river a pair of sabertooth cats watched warily, choosing their prey with care. An enormous squawking filled the air as a flight of birds took to the skies. They momentarily cast an undulating shadow on the landscape.

Trumpeting yells and high-pitched snorts resounded. An armored tank shuffled into the river. Except it was a glyptodont, an enormous armored animal with a swinging tail. Graceful camel-like creatures, lacking humps but having long noses and longer necks browsed the shortened grasses.

"Well? Nothing to say? No identifications? Have you been rendered speechless?" Evan gently teased.

Moira could only shake her head. Tears sparkled. "It's so...beautiful..." she whispered. Fumbling with the camcorder she dropped it. She knelt, picked up the two pieces. "I broke it."

"I can fix it. Give me your ponytail holder," John offered. Then smirked as Thomas was reaching round to undo his. "I meant hers," he clarified. Scowling the scientist lowered his arms.

John and Evan exchanged a quick grin. Moira smiled, pulled the band from her hair.

John knelt next to her, watching the cascade of her long hair spill around past her shoulders to the middle of her back. He took the two pieces from her, wrapped the band securely. Added a piece of duct tape from his TAC vest. "Here. All set to record."

"Thank you." She took the camcorder, fingers brushing against his. She filmed the scene. "I've never seen...I mean...no one has ever seen anything like this...no one has..."

"Except in the murals of the Field Museum," John noted.

"The signal is still transmitting," Thomas stated.

"How do we get through that?" Aaron wondered. He nervously grasped his gun.

"We could shoot our way through 'em. Think of the trophies we could hang on the walls."

"No!" Moira protested at the grinning Lionel.

"There will be no unnecessary killing," John stated with a glance at Evan. "We will scout a way around them. Most of those are herbivores, right?"

"Yes...I believe so."

"You believe so?" Evan asked.

Moira smiled. "Yes, Evan. No one knows anything for certain. We will be the first."

**************************************************************************

Steven eyed his men, then John's team as they stood in the 'Gate room. Ronon shifted his stance, eager to be gone. Teyla perused the other marines speculatively. Rodney adjusted his data screens once more. "Doctor Beckett, will you be joining us?"

"Yes, colonel." The Scottish doctor hastened towards the group. "If there are any survivors they will more than likely need medical attention."

"And if not?" Rodney asked.

"Then they may have left notes, or remnants of whatever befell them," Carson argued. He stared down at his bag, pushing more painful, more personal memories aside.

"You don't have to go, Carson," Elizabeth soothed. "You mustn't blame yourself for–"

"I don't. But it was my research that pushed theirs to its limits...and led to the Wraith virus that killed half of their own people."

"By their own choice, remember," she prompted.

"Now we can find out what happened to the other half...if they survived," Ronon noted. His tone was dubious. Expecting no one.

Blue chevrons locked. After the KAWOOSH the teams emerged upon a landscape of desolation. Blackened trees and burnt fields stretched to the horizon. Buildings were charred ruins. Only the 'Gate remained untouched, as did the DHD. The silence was heavy. The air unmoving.

"No life signs, except ours. Not a single living thing. The bio-scanner only reads us," Rodney repeated. Shaking his head he swept the sensor around again. "There is less oxygen but a breathable atmosphere."

"It is safe to assume the Wraith did attack, and retaliated," Teyla surmised.

"Just as we expected. We tried to warn them," Carson sighed.

"Hang on...I've got the distress beacon. It is a steady signal. This way," Rodney gestured through the rubble, waiting for the marines to advance first.

"I wonder how long it has been operational," Ronon mused. "And who was left to set it."

"From the look of the destruction I'd say a few months at the most," Steven estimated. Gesturing he deployed the marines to fan out accordingly.

"Why didn't we pick up the signal sooner?" Carson asked.

"It's too weak. There was probably too much interference. The aftermath of the battle would have produced various EM fields, radioactive debris, not now, of course," Rodney hastily assured. "Subspace interference and–"

"So this signal has been running for over two months? Who was left to set it in the first place?"

Teyla wondered, echoing Ronon. "And how long did they wait?"

"Enough chit-chat. Keep com silence. Fan out. Doctor McKay, lead us to the source of that beacon. Ronon, take point."

Ronon hesitated, not used to taking orders from Steven. He glanced at Teyla, then stepped away into the gloom.

Ash and dust hung in the air. Weakened sunlight filtered through the dreary atmosphere. Their loud footsteps echoed off the rubble. Raised clouds of dust and dirt.

"This unnatural quiet is eerie," Carson remarked.

"The quiet of a dead world," Rodney noted, uncharacteristically subdued. "This way. This building here. Below ground."

"Is it possible there could be some survivors?" Steven asked.

"It is always possible, but the Wraith are known to be quite thorough." Teyla doused the spark of muted hope in Carson's eyes. She shrugged.

"Can we be certain it was the Wraith?" the doctor wondered.

"Who else could it be?" Rodney challenged. Motioning Ronon out of the way he swept the scanner through the air, then headed into a crumbling building. "We knew this would happen. We warned them the Wraith would hardly look the other way. Not when the drug not only prevents them from feeding but also kills them."

"The Wraith retaliation must have been swift and terrible," Teyla muttered.

"And here is our final proof." Ronon paused, kicked aside some debris to reveal a dessicate Wraith corpse. "At least they took a few Wraith with them."

"Hang on a moment. I should take a sample of–"

"Later, Doctor Beckett. Let's go," Steven ordered.

Interrupted the scientist moved on with the rest of the group. No one saw the corpse's eyes open.

"Let's get to that bunker. Secure the perimeter. Two men guard the 'Gate," Steven ordered. "Doctor McKay?"

Jolted from the grim scene the physicist nodded. "This way. Down these rather precarious, dark stairs..."

Ronon smiled at his hesitation. "I'll lead." He descended into the darkness.

****************************************************************************

A hand on her shoulder prompted Moira to lower the camcorder. Reluctantly. "What?"

"We should get moving," John suggested. "Find the source of that signal and see what else is in that tower."

"It's...it's amazing. It's like a second Eden,"she mused.

"The savage garden," John conceded, pointing to a sabertooth cat attacking a smaller deer. Herds of herbivores shrieked, bleated, yelped and fled the plain.

"But look at them, colonel!" she enthused, oblivious to his previous suggestion. "_Megalocerus, gomphototheres, _the possible ancestors to the elephant! _Orohippus,_ those tiny horses. _Megatherium, smilodon, glyptodonts,_ even the _lipoterns..._all these extinct orders! From different eras, millions of years apart and thriving here! Thriving and no doubt evolving to–"

"But why bring them here in the first place?" Thomas wondered.

"Who knows? Experimentation. Seeding life in the Pegasus galaxy. Perhaps the indigenous populations died out for some reason. For eons these were the most intelligent life forms on Earth."

"In some ways they still are," muttered Thomas, glancing pointedly at John and the other military men.

"Kavanaugh, how's that reading on the scanner?" snapped John, catching the implied insult. "I don't want to be traveling in circles. Maybe we should contact McKay and have him–"

"I can do whatever McKay can do!" Thomas briskly assured. He studied the scanner. "About two miles through that," he gestured towards the populated plain. "The signal is weak but consistent, and definitely originating from that tower."

"How long have these animals survived here?" Evan asked. "Obviously they cannot be re-seeded as they are extinct on Earth."

"Once a breeding population reaches its end there would be no recourse. Populations must have adapted here for millions of years. Millions! And no doubt evolving. Unless the Ancients also genetically tampered with them. Still, there would have to be an overlapping progression of evolution and adaptation. No climate is forever stable."

"Survival of the fittest," John remarked.

Moira stood. "Yes, colonel. Natural selection would win out, even in a controlled environment. Assuming this is one. Not to mention integration with whatever natural species exist here."

"And that could explain the double lock on the dialing address," Evan surmised.

"To control or monitor evolution or experimentation..." Moira paused, glanced at Evan. "Evan, what if this is some planetary laboratory?" She swung round to meet John's thoughtful expression. "Either to populate barren planets here or to wait for life to evolve..." Abruptly she turned to Thomas. "Thomas, can you clearly define and separate the life signs by species?"

"Thomas?" asked John, raising a brow.

"Kavanaugh, sir," Evan supplied helpfully.

"No. That is to say," Thomas quickly corrected with a glance at John's bemused expression, "the life signs are too massive. Even our own are blending into the overwhelming numbers the machine is reading."

"Hmm. You know, Tom, Doctor McKay was refining the bio-scanners to distinguish between different life forms."

"Thomas, Doctor Kavanaugh, colonel," the scientist corrected. "You can distinguish between human and non-human, but that is not what Doctor O'Meara requested."

John noted Moira's sudden reaction of startled realization. "I think we should get moving. Major, we need to investigate the source of that energy signature. Deploy your men on point three klicks east. We'll keep clear of the traffic and follow the river. Tommy can–"

"Excuse me, colonel, but I was led to believe that Major Lorne was in charge of this team and this expedition," Thomas icily stated.

"That is true," John agreed amiably.

"Then why are you giving orders on his expedition to his team?"

"Colonel Sheppard is the ranking military leader on site–" Evan began to explain in a voice of patient exasperation he had employed many times before this.

"Oh, I see. So that whole tagging along thing was just an excuse to take command and to belittle our expertise for your own amusement?"

"I am not taking command, Tom," John deliberately provoked. "I am advising Major Lorne how best to proceed. As for your alleged expertise, yes, I do find it amusing how you–"

"Doctor Kavanaugh," Moira forcibly interjected, "could you please direct us towards the tower? Surely you can find the most direct and advantageous route. We can leave the military protocol to the experts."

"Yes...that is an excellent suggestion, Doctor O'Meara. This way." Ego assuaged Thomas began the descent of the hill.

Evan mouthed his thanks to Moira, who shook her head at both military men before turning to follow Thomas. "Bath, Josephes, take point east of Kavanaugh. We will follow the river but avoid all traffic. No shooting unless on my orders, or the colonel's. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," the soldiers agreed. They headed to obey, passing the two scientists.

"I'll take the six. Colonel?"

"How can you put up with that guy?" John asked quietly, descending the hill with Evan. "And here I thought McKay was bad."

"You just have to know how to sweet talk him, sir." Evan gestured towards Moira. "And have at least one scientist on your side."

***************************************************************************

Ronon cursed. He shoved the last of the many rocks that blocked the tunnel entrance. The stairs had led to an empty room, then a tumbled wall stopping any ingress to the next section. "All right. I can see an opening. Give me a flashlight and I'll–"

"Hold on, Ronon," Steven ordered. "Jenkins, Ross, take the point. Ronon, guard the six."

Ronon shrugged, stepped out of the way as the two marines surged towards the entrance.

"Do not be upset, Colonel Caldwell. Colonel Sheppard gives us an amount of autonomy to make decisions in–" Teyla attempted to ameliorate.

"Well, I don't. I'll make the decisions off-world. Doctor McKay, follow them."

"Yes, yes," grumbled the scientist to the barked order. Exchanging an indignant glance with Teyla he ducked under a precarious lintel and entered the gloom.

Flashlight flickered off the concrete walls. Stale air and crumbled bricks made for a treacherous descent. Dust motes sparkled in the powerful glare of the P90 lights. The soft blue glow from Rodney's scanner bathed his face in sickly hues.

"This was one of their research centers," Carson realized, following the rest in single file. The tunnel opened into a room. Cluttered with broken furniture and smashed laboratory equipment.

Dead rats clustered in unsightly piles.

"Hang on!" Rodney raised a hand, a closed fist in unconscious imitation of John. "The signal is this way..." He headed across the room. "It's in the next section."

"But if anything is left of their research or their fate it may be in here," Carson argued.

"Stop! We will split into two groups. Jenkins, Ronon, stay with Beckett. Ross, Teyla, and I will cover McKay. Let's go. Jones, Donovan, keep the entrance secure."

"I don't think we should split up," Ronon stated. Irritated he crossed his arms, unmoving.

"We will get more accomplished if we form two teams," Steven argued, adopting a similar stubborn stance.

"This bedrock is highly unstable. If we have to evacuate it will be quicker as one group compared to separate–"

"We don't have the luxury of time to waste if the structure is unstable," Steven tersely argued.

"Two teams–"

"This structure is unstable, colonel," Teyla countered. "Ronon is correct. If we stay together it will be both safer and more efficient. For all we know this distress beacon could be a trap for any survivors."

"Did you say a trap? A Wraith trap?" asked Rodney, freezing in mid-step.

"Or a Hoffan trap to defy the Wraith to the last man," Ronon opined.

"I will give you a degree of latitude, but the final decision is mine. As the military leader of this expedition I will give the orders and you will follow them. Two teams. Now."

As the group separated Ronon shook his head. "Doesn't like to listen, does he?" he grumbled to Teyla. She nodded in agreement, touched his arm in empathy, then trailed Rodney into the darkness.

******************************************************************

The ground was soggy yards back from the sluggish river. The marines grumbled, clutching their rifles tightly. Passing enormous rhino-like creatures the humans were for the most part ignored.

"_Brontotheres_–" Moira identified, clutching the camcorder together as she recorded.

A weird buzzing filled the air. The reeds near the water's edge shook violently. "Down!" shouted Josephes. A blur of a big black bodies emerged. Flying, huge insects sped above the crouching humans and dispersed.

"Just dragonflies, beetles, even a few Iratus bugs," marveled Evan, shielding his eyes to watch the cloud of big bugs pass.

"Iratus bugs? I hate those things," John muttered, touching his throat in uneasy remembrance.

"Oh, that's right. I should have warned you about the possibility of big bugs," Moira teased.

"Iratus bugs," John clarified. "By the way, I recall that you tried to kill me. Twice."

She smiled. "It was nothing personal, colonel."

"John," he corrected. "Just so...the third time is not the charm."

"Sir!" Josephes jogged back to Evan and John. "The route looks clear this way. The grasses are longer and there is an advancing tree-line."

"Good. We need some cover. I hate being so exposed. Lead on, lieutenant." Evan glanced round. "No sign of any predators. Yet."

"I think we are more in danger of being stepped on," John suggested. They passed an gigantic ground sloth. "Major, I'll take the six. Head up and make certain Kavanaugh stays on target."

"Yes, sir."

A giant splash made everyone freeze, turn. "Up the bank! Now!" Evan shouted, shoving Thomas ahead of him. John and Moira ran past the reeds just as a giant primitive-looking crocodile lunged from the waters. Swinging its massive five foot long head it snapped at the empty air. Two inch wide teeth glinted in its long jaw. Finding nothing the crocodile retreated, submerging once more. A startled flight of birds honked ahead, white and black wings creating a strong breeze in their passing.

"And you left out the reptiles," John quipped, watching the monster submerge.

"_Porosaurus,_ or a _dinosucus, _although they were smaller...are smaller..."

"Not to quibble on nomenclature but let's move on. Those trees look better and better," Evan commented.

**************************************************************************

Carefully Carson made his way round broken tables, chairs, and heaps of paper. Glass crunched under his boots. Fallen masonry jutted at all angles. Shining his flashlight he frowned.

"What are we looking for, doc?" Ronon inquired. "All I see is a big mess."

"Anything that might give us a clue as to what happened. A note, a sign...a last record..." He sighed. "It'll be like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"I think we know what happened." Ronon shifted a pile of books with his hand. Creating an explosion of withered paper and dust. "The Hoffans developed a weapon against the Wraith. A deadly weapon. The Wraith retaliated. I don't see why Doctor Weir and the rest find fault with their serum. It seems to me to be an effective weapon."

"Yes, but at what cost?" Carson bemoaned. "At the cost of human lives. Half who were inoculated with the protein died within a week." Thoughts of Perna flitted. The beautiful, brilliant blond doctor he had been aiding. Defying Carson and taking the drug. Only to die from it.

"But the other half survived, doctor. Survived to deny being a food source to the Wraith. To even kill them."

"And you see the results of that, son. The Wraith could not feed off them so they took their vengeance. A terrible..." Carson stared at Ronon, broken from his forlorn memories. "Isn't that why they made you a Runner?"

"What?" Taken aback by the question and Carson's fixed stare the Satedan frowned.

"Because the Wraith could not feed on you?" he persisted.

"Yes...I suppose. Or for sport, or revenge, or training of their–"

"No, but why you, Ronon? Why specifically you?"

"The Wraith would not feed on me–"

"Would not? Or could not?" Clambering over the debris Carson heedlessly scattered volumes and vials. "This is important, son. The Wraith would not, or could not feed on you?"

Ronon opened his mouth to dismiss the question of semantics, but seeing the serious intensity of the doctor he considered. "Could not...it drew back its hand...in surprise...puzzlement...then anger..." he remembered. The words came slowly as the memory of being cocooned filled him.

"Hmm...all right. First things first." Turning Carson began to search through an assortment of nearly rotted papers. "We'd better get looking now."

*************************************************************************

Moira had fallen behind again. She stood staring at a large leaf. Dozens of flowers of a vivid crimson hue, as big as her hand protruded from a clump of bushes. A light, drizzling rain had begun to fall. Nevertheless the chorus of bird songs, animal calls, and insect buzzing was intense.

John muttered under his breath, circled round again and said pointedly, "Stop doing that."

"Doing what, Colonel Sheppard?" Moira asked innocently. She lowered the camcorder and met his reproving gaze.

"Disappearing and then falling behind me. We have to keep moving."

"Yes, but I just need this one sample for–"

"You have enough samples," John insisted, taking her arm and pulling her along.

"Just one more of this. Doctor Parrish is a botanist and will be extremely interested in the–"

"Leave it! We don't have time for a committee–"

"I'm not a committee!"

"Moira, we have to keep moving," John insisted again. "Besides," he added, guiding her past the giant blossoms, "what else are you leaving out?"

"What?" Pulling free of his grasp she stared, startled both by the question and the observation.

"Back on the ridge. You thought of something. During your rambling on evolution and–"

"I was not rambling! I was hypothesizing on the purpose of this extraordinary place–"

"And you thought of something, didn't you? Something to do with the bio-scanner."

Moira slung her pack onto her other shoulder, began to follow the tree-line. "You're right. We should keep moving. The rain is getting heavier and we could be caught in a downpour–" she suggested, slipping the camcorder into her pack.

"Are you going to tell me?" he persisted, passing her. He stopped in front of her.

She sighed. "Look...it was only a thought. A transitory supposition which may or may not pan out to be nothing in this–"

"Nevertheless, tell me."

Moira glanced at the overhanging branches. The squirrels chittering and scrambling up and down the trunk. "Colonel Sheppard...John...we need to stay here. I mean I need to stay here," she hastily corrected, meeting his intense gaze, "to study here. Study here could be of incalculable importance. We could see how actual evolution transformed Earth. We could find entirely new life-forms. We could discover why some species hit an evolutionary dead-end while others thrived. We could find the source of–"

"Unless you can provide any intel on the Wraith or the Ancients no one is staying," he sternly interrupted her rising enthusiasm.

Gunfire erupted. The noise shattered the peaceful, although noisy air. Several rounds repeated.

"Stay behind me!" John ordered. The pair ran towards the sound.

"Keep tight! Tight formation!" Evan was shouting. Thomas was near him, staring round, both hands clutching a gun. Aaron held his gun at the ready, as did Evan.

"Major! Report!" John ordered, swinging his P90 up in one smooth motion.

"Don't shoot anything!" Moira demanded.

"Bath is missing, sir! He just disappeared on point. That was his gunfire you heard. I saw...I saw a glimpse of something through the mist. Something...on two legs."

"Two?" John swung round to Moira. "Is this the idea you left out?"

"No...not...that is...they wouldn't be violent...or hostile..."

"Who?" John asked pointedly, voice rising in frustration.

A scream rent the air. Clearly human. Then a piercing screeching, spiraling higher and higher. Everyone covered their ears, cringing at the painful, debilitating sounds.

"Get down!" John shouted over the keening wail. He yanked Moira to her knees beside him. "Lay ground cover!"

An explosion of gunfire erupted, creating a protective circle. The rain began to fall harder, big clear drops splashing off the P90s. The mist danced and sparkled in strange uluations.

"They're all around us!" Evan warned.

"What? What?" exclaimed Aaron.

"Train your lights on the perimeter. There! Three o'clock!" John swung his P90's light to the right. Simultaneously he yanked his hand gun from its holster, shoved it into Moira's hands.

"I don't know how to–" she protested, handling the gun awkwardly.

"Point and shoot! Open end that way!" he instructed. His voice sprang loudly upon the wet air as the screeching abruptly stopped.

"We need to find cover," Evan stoically offered.

"No. Wait. Listen," Moira urged, glancing round like the rest.

"Listen to what? I don't hear anything!" Thomas stammered.

"Exactly," John concurred. "There's nothing. No birds. No animals. No bugs. Nothing."

The eerie silence stretched. And stretched. Broken only by the increasingly thunderous rainfall. By the team's labored breathing. The mist roiled as the raindrops pelted on it, through it, ripping through the curtain of gray.

"Moira, do you have any idea what is after us?" Evan asked. The team cautiously rose.

Moira shrugged. "I don't know. It doesn't make sense. Any bi-pedals would be non-aggressive. Intimidated by us. By our weapons and our voices and–"

"Bi-pedals? How–"

"We still need to reach that tower," Evan stated. "Kavanaugh, follow the signal. Josephes, watch our six."

"Double-time. Let's go," John agreed.

Quickly the group advanced. The rain began to slacken. The mists rippled, fading into the distance as a gloomy twilight descended.

"Whoa." Evan held up his hand. All stopped. "Enemy down. Forty paces." Evan shone his light on a wide swath of crushed grasses and ferns. And a body. "Colonel, this looks awfully familiar. Yet it doesn't."

"Explain yourself, major. What is..." John froze, staring down at the carcass. "Son of a..."

"What is it?" Moira asked, unable to see past the two military men.

They parted to give her access. "You tell me," John stated. "It looks like a Wraith."

**************************************************************************

"Here! Here!" Rodney excitedly shoved past fallen masonry, knelt upon the cluttered floor. Nearly hidden was a rectangular device. With a twist of a crystal protruding from its base he switched off the signal. The dim lights on the console faded. But his smile devolved into a frown. "You don't think is a trap, do you?"

"The device appears to be Hoffan technology," Teyla posited, eying the now dead beacon.

"Yes, it is," Rodney confirmed. He lifted the device, turned it over in his hands. "It is almost defunct. If my estimation of its power usage is correct, which it is, this has been running for approximately two years."

"Two years? So can we safely assume the Wraith attacked two years ago? Devastating the planet in retaliation for the Hoffan drug." Teyla pursed her lips together, not satisfied. "Only those scorch marks appeared more recent than that."

"Nevertheless there is nothing else of interest here." Rodney stood, setting down the device. He brushed his dirty hands on his pants.

"All right," Steven conceded. "Let's move out to–"

"Colonel!" Steven's radio crackled to life the an urgent voice. "We have in-coming! Two darts!"

"Not a trap, colonel?" Teyla asked, arching a brow.

"Not the time, Teyla!" Rodney commented. "We have to get out of–" A groaning rumble echoed in the building. Its weakened support structures shuddered.

"What was that?" Carson asked. He glanced at the cracked ceiling above him. It appeared to be moving. Then stopped.

"Whatever it was it wasn't good. Find anything?" Ronon asked, hoisting his big gun to a ready position.

"Yes, in fact I have." Carson pushed through the debris to lift a tattered book to the filtered light. Pushing thoughts of Perna aside he read aloud: "'We are in our final days. Those of us who can have escaped this last culling. More Wraith come every day. We have eliminated those that we could, but they keep coming. There is no escape. Those who are not killed are taken through the 'Gate. Since we cannot be harvested we don't know why they keep...'"

Another rumble. Splatters of ceiling dusted the air. "We have to get going, doc. Now! This won't hold forever!"

Snapping the book shut Carson nodded. "Aye, just a tic." He scrambled to the desk to snatch a dilapidated but still serviceable laptop. "This is the only one still intact. It may have been the last one used, hidden away. Perhaps it contains more information and analysis of the drug."

"Now, doctor!" Ronon insisted. He shoved Carson towards the doorway as the walls began to tremble.

"All right, son, I'm not a bloody parcel to be–"

"Ronon!" Teyla shouted. Her beam of light danced wildly as she ran towards them. "This way! Darts!"

The distinct zipping of another Wraith ship shuddered the air. A second later a blast screamed, tearing away one whole wall and exposing the team to the light of day.

************************************************************************

Mist hovered on the humid air. The rain was gentling to a drizzle once more. Darkness increased, encroaching steadily from the horizon like a living thing.

"That...that...that is..a...a...Wraith!" Thomas stammered. His voice rose at the word.

John would have found it amusing under different circumstances. Instead he kept his gun trained on the inert form. Vaguely man-shaped the creature's skin was half-covered in a tough carapace like a beetle. Straggling hair fell from a pale, oddly shaped sloping face. The prominent slits on the cheeks were only outshone by the rows of tiny sharp teeth as the creature's lips were drawn back in a death grimace. Disjointed arms ended in long, curved claws. Short legs reflected the diminutive stature.

"Are you sure its dead, sir?" Aaron nervously asked. He white-knuckled his P90.

Just to be certain John fired another round into it. The body jerked as the bullets plugged into it. "Yes."

Flinching at the sound Moira advanced. "I...I'll need to take a sample. Of its DNA. Shine your light on the arm. There." She pointed.

"It looks more like a bug than a man," Evan remarked, grimacing.

"Isn't it a little short for a Wraith?" John quipped, met Moira's quick smile with his own. "It's smaller, more compact. Not from human stock." He watched Moira at her grisly task. "More primitive." Suspicion laced the last word.

Moira knelt on the sodden grass, careful to avoid the thickening blood pool. Pulling on a pair of clear rubber gloves she produced a sharp knife. She sliced into the arm, dug out some tissue and popped it into a vial. Once secured into her bad she stretched out the arm. "Look at this. The enzyme sack is not fully developed. That might explain the teeth. The skin is tough...harder than human flesh. Look at the hand..." She exposed the palm. "The sucker is more prominent." She carefully fingered it. "Lined with some kind of hard substance...like teeth, but not..."

"How many are there?" Evan asked.

"Hard to tell. This species like all the others here would be bottle-necked too." She glanced up at their puzzled expressions. Explained. "The population is a genetic bottle-neck.. A shrinking of the genetic pool resulting in mutations of the species and limited genetic traits to be passed on would eliminate most members of a breeding species. The key to survival is diversity. Sexual reproduction, natural selection and evolution. We don't really understand how the Wraith reproduce but even so these...these sub-Wraith would be hampered by a limited gene pool and limited resources..." Her voice trailed off as she saw all of the men staring at her, not at the gruesome body beside her. Suddenly cognizant of her wet, clinging t-shirt, her words. She turned away, embarrassed, dropped the arm. She yanked off the gloves and placed them into another plastic bag before dropping them into her pack with the knife. Picking up the dropped gun she stood, waited.

Several sarcastic comments came to John's mind, but instead he said, "The tower. Double-time." They began to move but he stopped. "Wait." He halted them mid-step, raised his closed fist. He gestured everyone to a crouch. A weird sucking noise drew their attention. With another gesture he moved Aaron and Evan into position. "This way," he said quietly to the two scientists. He led them.

Slowly they made their way through the encroaching mists to the relative safety of the tree-line. Reaching a row of bushes they froze. The sucking sounds had become more audible.

"Clearing. Twelve o'clock. Do not engage." Raising his binoculars John trained them on the patch of bare ground. Quietly cursed.

"What is it?" Moira asked. Fumbling with the camcorder she held it up to her eyes, zoomed in on the clearing. Onto a horrific sight.

Bath was on his knees. One of the creatures was noisily sucking from his neck, one hand transfixed to his bare chest. As it drew back blood and gore dripped from its many rows of teeth. Its hand thrust against Bath's chest as another of the creatures began to gnaw on one of Bath's arms. The crunch of bones was loud. Bath pitifully whimpered as he aged slowly.

In one fluid motion John lowered the binoculars and lifted the P90. Sighting carefully he zoomed in on Bath's tortured, aging face. Recalling Colonel Sumner's similar fate still he did not hesitate. His finger pressed steadily on the trigger. A single shot. Bath slumped to the ground. Dead. At last. A soft, short intake of breath made him lower the weapon.

Moira lowered the camcorder, retracting the lens and shutting it down with an audible click. Enraged the creature withdrew its hand. Startled by the shot and the death of its prey it twisted around. Emitting a piercing wail it fled into the bushes with the other one.

"Lorne, Josephes, re-establish position to the tower. Now. We're on your six. Retrieve Bath's ordnance," John tersely ordered. "Shoot anything that moves," he added, looking at Moira. Not apologetically but still he shrugged slightly.

She met his gaze. Neither blame nor recrimination shone in her brown eyes. Only sorrow.

"You...you shot him! You shot–" Thomas stammered, shocked. Scared.

"I had no choice. He was dead already," John explained not to Thomas but to Moira who was still staring at him.

"You could have–" Thomas began.

"Could have what? What, Kavanaugh?" John rounded on the scientist suddenly. The man inadvertently backed up a few steps. "Saved him? How? Shot the Wraith? A dozen more could have been upon us in seconds! Find that damn EM pulse and lead us to it. Now!"

"But you–"

"Colonel Sheppard is right, Thomas," Moira intervened, finally breaking her gaze from John. "Those creatures...these sub-wraiths will most likely hunt in packs. Unless we can pinpoint the leader they will be relentless. We have to get to the tower."

Flashlights gleamed on the weaving mist. Sundown was a haze of purple and plum behind the dissipating clouds. An eerie silence still prevailed. The trampling of the team's boots was muffled by drizzle and sodden grasses. Past the trees the tower loomed ahead, a solid mass of granite and stone.

"Three o'clock!" shouted Aaron. Forms shifted in the mist, in the gloom. Following. Pursuing. A piercing screech rent the air. Shadows advanced. Creatures emerged in a rush. Bullets flew in reply.

"Down! Down!" Evan shouted, shoving Thomas behind him. Aaron screamed as he went down, submerged by a creature. Heedless of the bullets more ran towards the team, into the team.

Moira cried out, slamming hard onto the ground as one hit her. Wrenching pain jolted her foot as a clawed hand dug into it. Past the boot. Past flesh into muscle, bone.

John rolled, came up firing into the throng of creatures. A claw grazed his cheek as one launched towards him, but a hail of bullets sent it crashing to the ground. Creatures screamed, falling back, shredded by the barrage of bullets. John whirled, firing with Evan to create a perimeter littered with dead and dying creatures. Thomas was cowering on the ground, arms folded over his bent head. Aaron fought free and was shooting wildly with both guns.

"John!" Moira cried. She clutched uselessly at wet grass as one of the creatures dragged her towards the bushes.

John whirled again. "Lorne!" he shouted, dropping his P90 to lunge towards Moira's rapidly retreating form. He grabbed her outstretched hands as Evan fired at the Wraith pulling her.

"Don't let go!" she desperately urged. Even as his grasp slipped.

"I won't!" he assured, clutching at her sleeves, then her wrists, shoving himself along with her. "Hold on!" He braced himself, pulling at her. Abruptly the Wraith squealed, letting go. As it fell forwards John pulled Moira out of the way, towards him.

"Stop! Stop!" she cried. John released her as she scrambled to a seated position, wincing as pain flared along her foot, leg. "The claws!" she exclaimed. "The claws are stuck in the ground. It's tearing my foot apart!"

"Hold on." John knelt at her feet, drew a long knife from the sheath at his side. Still attached to her foot was an arm, ending in a hand with vicious claws embedded in her foot, in the ground.

"Moira?" Evan knelt to her, staring at the bizarre appendage attached to her.

With a grunt John pried the claws from the dirt. "Okay...this is deep."

"I noticed," she agreed, gaining a quick smile from John before she grit her teeth.

"Looks like they're gone, colonel!" Aaron observed, warily guarding the perimeter. "For now."

Moira cried out, falling back into Evan's supporting arms as John wrenched the claws free, one by one. In disgust he threw the arm aside. He sheathed the knife after wiping it clean on the wet grass. "You're right, lieutenant. Gone for now. They could be re-grouping. Get Kavanaugh to his feet, major. We have to make that tower ASAP." Grasping Moira's arm he hauled her to her feet, slipped his arm around her waist to support her. "Hold onto me, Moira. Think you can make it that far?"

"Yes," she tersely agreed, blinking back tears of pain.

At a stumbling run they invaded the ruined tower.

***********************************************************************

"Move! Move!" Steven shouted, all but shoving as he ushered the team across the darkened corridor. They ran up the remaining stairs as the building rattled around them.

"Maybe we'd be better off in–" Carson offered.

"No, it's a death trap! Trust me, being underground is not good!" Rodney corrected, running ahead of them. His data screen was clutched to his chest as a shield.

"Ronon!" Teyla called.

"Here! Were you missing me?" he joked with a smile. Clearly enjoying himself now.

Teyla shook her head in reply. "Come on!"

"The planet is dead! Why have the Wraith returned?" demanded Rodney.

"Good question, doctor. We can debate it later. Move!" Steven ordered.

A grim pewter sky greeted the team as they ran across the debris field. Chunks of masonry were crashing around them. Dust and crumbling stones occluded the air. "Take cover! Richards, what's your twenty?" Steven demanded into his radio. It crackled ominously. "Richards! Damn it! Richards!"

"We must assume the 'Gate has been compromised," Teyla asserted. She froze suddenly, tilting her head to one side. "They are coming. On foot."

"Who is coming? The marines?"

"No. The Wraith," she grimly corrected Carson.

**********************************************************************

Moira slumped into the console, inadvertently causing it to briefly glimmer with power. John placed his hand next to hers. The console came to life, but the lights were dim at best.

"The gene?" he needlessly asked.

Moira wearily nodded, slid onto a chair. Her foot pulsed with pain.

"Everything here must need the gene carriers to operate the technology jointly," Evan reasoned. "Kavanaugh, see how many systems you can get marginally operational. Josephes, you and I are going to build a fire. It should ward off most of the inhabitants of this planet."

John knelt, yanking off his TAC vest, procuring supplies from the pockets. "Moira, tell me what those were."

Moira bit back a moan as John touched her bloody boot. A pool of blood was leaking out of the tattered leather. Glimpses of rent flesh could be seen. Sliding his knife along the ripped ends of her pants he carefully cut his way up her leg, past her knee to her thigh. "John? You could at least by a girl a drink first."

He met her quizzical gaze, smiled. "I didn't think we had time for that," he teased, then shot an ampule into her thigh.

"Ouch! What the–"

"Morphine. Relax. Now," he continued, attentions returning to her foot, "tell me what those things were."

"We've got a fire at the entrance," Evan informed them as he neared, "but the rain could douse it. Kavanaugh can only get a few systems running...and the door isn't one of them. Moira, how are you feeling?" His worried gaze took in her pale face, wet hair, drenched clothing.

"It's...it's not bad..." she stammered, weak voice conveying the extent of the injury. The fire of the pain slowly ebbed, ceasing its throbbing as the morphine took effect.

"We need more light here, major. Moira, I am going to wrap your foot to stop the bleeding but first I need to slide it out of your–"

"No, no!" she protested. "I think...I think the boot is the only thing holding my foot together," she stammered breathlessly. "I can't."

"All right. We can work around that. Cut the boot apart and string it back together. Relax."

"I'll get some water from the packs," Evan offered. "It's going to be all right, Moira."

John met her pain-filled gaze. "Tell me about those creatures," he repeated, as much to distract her as to learn.

"Obviously they were Wraith, of course," Thomas supplied, looking worriedly at the pair. "Mutated, perhaps?" Nervously he removed his glasses, wiped them on his wet shirt. "But I am no zoologist."

"That's why I was asking one," John retorted. "Keep working on getting these systems functional. Any data could prove useful."

Moira averted her eyes, unable to view the glimpses of her mangled foot. Instead she watched Evan as he gathered several water bottles, set them by John. "Not...not a mutation," she softed corrected, grasping the arms of the chair.

John cut her boot away carefully, grimaced at the sight of blood, torn flesh, glimpses of bone. "Shit..." he muttered. "Water." He cleansed the wound. "This will sting," he warned, pouring antiseptic on it. She cried out, almost jumping from the chair, almost yanking her foot away, nearly kicking him in the face but Evan grabbed her leg, held it steady. Quickly John wrapped the foot in bandages and gauze, awkwardly working around the remains of the boot still stuck to her foot. "Hold this, here. Is this too tight?" he asked, tying the boot back together with duct tape and string.

"It's not good...is it?" she asked, licking her lips thirstily.

Evan stood, lifted her leg to rest on an opposite chair. He handed her a water bottle. "No...it's not good," he agreed, "but you will make it. Come first light we will return to the 'Gate. And Atlantis."

John stood. "Lorne's right." He motioned the major towards Aaron. "We'll start four hour shifts. Cover the perimeter, but stay in here. We've got a defensible position, with only one way in or out."

"Yes, sir," Aaron agreed, moved to stand near the fire, gazing out into the night.

"And Moira?" Evan asked, glancing back at her. She was sitting back, touching the buttons on a console. A data screen hummed to life weakly. Scrolls of data began to appear and she leaned closer to peer at the flowing words.

"She was right. The boot is the only thing holding her foot together. A few of the bones are broken." John turned towards the consoles. "Kavanaugh?"

"There's not much power left in the ZPM. This is all I can get functioning and this may not last the night." Subdued he was kneeling by a control panel, hooking up his power book with the access panels. "We are fortunate to have this much."

Moira gathered her wet, long hair, squeezed it to drip on the floor, flung it behind her and arched her back to stretch her weary, sore limbs. She tugged at the wet t-shirt clinging to her, sipped some water and chewed on her lower lip, staring at the screen.

John was watching her. He neared slowly, as if he was afraid he would spook her. He ran a hand through his own wet hair, heard a soft, soft sound from her throat as she freed her lower lip. He stood behind her, eyed the screen. "Can you read any of that?"

His quiet voice startled her. Fingers slipped off the keyboard as he leaned over her shoulder to study the scrolling sequences. "A...a little. These..." She studied them. "Genetic codes for the Iratus bug. For the Wraith. Here...and here...but this is wrong..." She tapped the screen where coils of DNA sequences spiraled. "This is not human. Not modern human anyway. Not even close to us."

"You've been working on this with Beckett," he surmised.

"Yes...although we disagree." She glanced at him. He took a seat next to her, expression serious, handsome face sparkling with raindrops. A few slid from his disordered hair to trail across his stubbly jaw.. His brilliant green eyes were encouraging, interested. Warming to her words she continued, "Carson believes that the Wraith are a hybrid. A combination of human DNA and Iratus bug DNA. He thinks he may be able to cure the Wraith by stripping away the Iratus bug DNA sequences once and for all, leaving only the human."

"And you disagree?"

"Yes. I think the Wraith are not just a hybrid human but an entirely new species. The DNA sequences are too complex and too combined for any stripping to be effective long-term. The higher brain functions won't be fooled by any gene therapy."

"And those creatures out there?"

She turned to the console, touched the keys. John had licked his lips again and she was finding it highly distracting. "Um...those creatures...those creatures were Wraith. Sub-wraith, or proto-wraith, if you will. The Iratus bug DNA combined with ancestral human DNA. My guess would be _Australopithecus_ to be exact, or even _Paranthropus._ That would explain their stature and less developed attributes. Also their more insect-like nature and strategies." She paused, gaze narrowing. "John, we always assumed the Wraith were a natural species...an evolutionary product of two life-forms. But this...this laboratory...the data..."

"Are you suggesting the Ancients created the Wraith?" John asked slowly.

"We know the Ancients liked to experiment. John," she met his gaze intently, "I think we have found the point of origin."

*************************************************************************

Crouching behind the rubble, guns at the ready the team watched as two Wraith stomped through the debris. They entered the building, ducking low under the fallen masonry.

"Two...well, two is not that bad," Rodney's nervous stammer was halted when two more appeared and entered the structure.

"Richards, what is your twenty?" Steven asked again. The radio crackled. Silence. Finally a welcome voice.

"Three feet from the 'Gate, sir. So far it's clear. No darts in the vicinity. No boogies in sight."

A wave of relief enveloped the team. "Good. Hold your position." Steven eyed the empty doorway. "What do you think they want?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," Rodney shrugged. "Shouldn't we be moving to the 'Gate now? Before they return?"

"Perhaps they want the same thing we did. Information on the Hoffans and their drug," Carson suggested. He tightly clutched the book he had taken.

Teyla nodded. "It is a way to end their species. Learning everything they can about it would be their only defense."

"And punishing those who have it," Ronon added. "Are we just going to sit here?"

"What do you suggest we do? Go in and take any data they find?" snapped Rodney.

"Why not? The less they know the better," Ronon growled in reply. "It would be a tactical advantage if we–"

"It would be suicide!" Rodney exclaimed.

"Cut the chatter!" Steven ordered. "We will wait them out."

"And then what? Ask them to hand over any data?"

"McKay–" Steven warned, losing patience.

"No, seriously, colonel, what are you expecting to do here? I think the risk outweighs any kind of advantage. Sheppard would not risk his team on–"

"Sheppard is not here, doctor. I am," Steven clarified.

"Gentlemen," Carson interjected before the argument became too heated, "I have the final notes about the Hoffan's resistence and the serum. There's no need to bother with–"

"Why didn't you say so before?" Rodney demanded.

"I couldn't get a word in–" Carson replied, only to be interrupted by Rodney again.

"We've got what we need so let's go!"

The first laser cut across the debris, sending up a cloud of dust.

"Down! Hostiles emerging!" Steven shouted. "On the doorway!" Directing fire the marines obeyed. Bullets sliced into the building. "Once they are down get to the 'Gate! Teyla, take point and we will cover you!" Another exchange of bullets and lasers cut across the air. The atmosphere grew thick, cloudy. "Go! Go!"

Teyla rose, firing in unison with the marines. She whirled. "This way!" Running with Rodney and Carson behind her she darted round the rubble and away from the building, ducking the weapons' fire and dodging huge blocks of fallen stones.

Ronon and Steven returned fire as the Wraith destroyed more of their precarious cover. Chunks of rocks and bricks flew, disintegrated under the assault. "Richards! Retrieve reinforcements! Go now!" Steven ordered into his radio.

Ronon stared through the haze of dust and dirt, halting his weapon. "Look. Something is wrong. These Wraith don't look or act right."

"What?" Steven fired expertly but his bullets seemed to have little or no effect. "Hold your fire!" The marines lowered their weapons. A heavy hush fell.

The eerie silence was deepened by the gloom. The Wraith had ceased firing as well. Shoulder to shoulder they stood near the ruined building, dimly seen shapes. Tall, pale. Long hair. Grinning, skeletal faces. Abruptly the dust cloud shifted, and there were two more.

"What are they doing? And where did those two come from?" Steven wondered.

"Colonel, colonel, the 'Gate is compromised! I repeat, the 'Gate is compromised!" Teyla's voice crackled with anxiety over the radio.

"Damn! Did Richards make it through?"

"Unknown! He was not here but the Wraith–" Abruptly her voice was gone.

"Teyla! Teyla! Report!"

"We have to get to them!" Ronon started firing up his large gun.

"Negative. We have to eliminate this threat first or we'll be caught in a pincer," Steven realized.

"You don't understand, colonel. They've already outflanked us!" Ronon whirled, firing as stun bolts filled the air with a bluish haze. Shots were being fired behind them. "We have to get out of here now!"

************************************************************************

Nightfall was a cacophony of sounds. Howls, hoots, buzzing and squealing filled the humid, dark air. Moira limped to a wall, nearly fell as she slumped to the floor. She stretched out her legs. Grabbing her pack she procured a tightly wrapped sack from the battered bag.

Thomas and Joseph were studying the consoles, trying different crystals and panels to access more systems. Both were bathed in the dim, pallid glow. The light reflected from Thomas's glasses to shine eerily on his face.

Evan and John stood near the fire. "What about Bath?" Evan asked quietly, fingers playing along the comforting solidity of his P90. It was slung in the crook of his arm.

"We can retrieve the body with a full squad of marines. Assuming there will be one to retrieve," John stated grimly. He sighed, absently ran a hand through his wet hair. "The important thing is to get safely back to the Stargate."

"How many of those things do you think are here?"

"Who knows? These sub-wraiths may not even hibernate, and their population could be much greater given their more insect-like propensities and breeding patterns." He smiled. "I sound like Moira, don't I?"

Evan smiled in agreement. Both men looked at her. She had been watching them as they quietly conversed, but now looked at the sack in her hands. "That you do, sir."

John was eying Moira, speculation in his green eyes. Her wet hair straggled along her shoulders, curling down to her breasts molded snugly by the wet green t-shirt. Her face was pale, expression serious as she studied the sack in her hands. "So...what do you think, major? A paleozoologist and a guy like me?"

"It would never work, sir," Evan advised with a smile.

John shrugged, strolled towards Moira. He sat next to her. "Any better?"

"No. I mean...the morphine makes me forget I have a foot, or even a leg at all, except when I move it." She opened the sack. "Hungry?" She pulled out a sandwich, held it out as she offered it to him.

"No MRE?"

She eyed him, smiled. "No. _Meleagris gallopavo._."

"Excuse me?"

"Turkey. A turkey sandwich."

"Ah...good choice. Thank you." He bit into it, made a face.

"What?"

"I prefer ranch dressing, no pickles," he advised round a mouthful.

"Oh. I'll try to remember that for next time. _Meleagris gallopavo mutatis mutandis._"

"What?"

"Turkey, with the necessary changes."

John shook his head. "Scientists," he muttered, causing her to smile. They ate companionably. The fire crackled. Consoles softly hummed, lent a dim glow to the walls. "What else can you deduce about these sub-wraith? You mentioned strategy."

"This is just a guess, but since they appear more primitive, more bug-like than human they may have more of an insect mentality. Working as a group with limited psychic communication, hence the screeching. One leader with the rest being drones. Carson theorizes their society is based upon an insect one. Queen. Drones. Workers. More or less."

John nodded. "Is that why they don't have names? That has always bothered me."

"Not individual names or names as we would understand them, no. But they must have some individual identification. The human part of their brains would create that concept, and we know they have highly intelligent individuals, scientists, warriors. At least the modern Wraith we know would."

"Assuming the Ancients accidently or by design created the Wraith here...either way the evolutionary process was sped up by the introduction of modern humans. Correct?"

She smiled, impressed. "Yes. That would certainly be a reasonable assumption. The modern form supplanting the more primitive one. Except here." She sighed. "I never thought the Ancients would bring early humans, but I guess it makes sense seeing the megafauna they took over the centuries. Over the millennia. We should have been prepared for this."

"We had no idea what to expect," he soothed. "Least of all a sub-wraith creature. What happened to Bath wasn't your fault, Moira."

She leaned back against the wall, wearily closed her eyes. "We should have kept that arm for analysis," she commented moodily.

"Most women prefer flowers, but all right. We'll pick it up on the way back," he offered, causing her to open her eyes, smile.

Jarring, violent images jerked Moira awake. As did the hot pain in her foot as she moved it in reaction to her nightmares. She opened her eyes. Lifted her head from John's shoulder. Eyed him. He was asleep, head bent forward, shoulders slumped. She stared for a moment. Beads of water clung to his damp, disordered hair. Dark stubble lined his strong jaw. The cut on his cheek had faded to a dull scratch, a thin red line against his skin. Long eyelashes shadowed each eye. Full, kissable lips were relaxed, although a slight smile teased, and she wondered what he was dreaming.

Shakily, using the wall for support she stood, hobbled awkwardly to the console. She suppressed a moan, leaning against the machine for support.

"How do you feel?"

She met Evan's gaze as he joined her. "I've felt better. Where is everyone?"

"Aaron is walking the perimeter. So far there is no sign of our friends. Kavanaugh is trying to wire our radio for better reception." He paused, smirked. "You looked rather cozy with the colonel over there."

Moira blushed, frowned. "I fell asleep, Evan. Don't be ridiculous."

"How do you feel, besides ridiculous?" John asked with a smile, coming to stand behind her.

"I...fine." She stared at the console, embarrassed. Glared at Evan who was biting back a laugh at her expression.

"How is Kavanaugh doing?" John asked, suddenly serious.

"So far no luck, sir. The ZPM is almost depleted.." Evan indicated the consoles, which barely hummed to life at their touch. Pale morning light wafted over the Ancient technology.

"We need to head out now. Gather your kits and let's go."

"Wait. Doctor Kavanaugh," Moira called as the long-haired scientist appeared from behind a broken data screen, "how much of this genetic history can you download?"

"Some..." He appeared doubtful.

"We don't have time for that," John stated.

"You said we needed any intel on the Wraith, right?" she challenged, turning to meet his frown.

"Or on the Ancients."

"Plugging in now," Thomas said, linking his data pad to the console screen she indicated.

"You have twenty minutes," John conceded. He gestured towards the entrance. The ashes of last night's fire were banked. He stepped out into the clearing with Evan. "Report."

Aaron joined them. "No Wraith, sir. Plenty of other beasts, though. I'd say our way back towards the river will be clear, as long as we stay in the tree-line. But once we reach the river..."

"It will be overflowing with animals again," John finished for him. "If we stick to the trees we can circumvent the river, approach the ridge at another angle." He frowned. "Except we'll be blind until we reach the top..." He glanced up at the brilliant blue sky. "And the sun will be in our eyes."

"And it will add another hour to our trip, maybe two," Evan cautioned. He shook his head. "We can't take that long, sir. Moira–"

"I know. Damn it." John surveyed the tree-line. Sunlight poured along the tall canopy of leaves, casting the air with an emerald sheen. And a raucous symphony. Brightly-colored birds flitted in the leaves, singing. Other unseen animals chortled and bellowed. The oxygen-rich air already felt heavy, cloying. And warm. John licked his lips. "All right. We'll stick to the tree-line as far as we can, then see how the river looks. We'll take the most direct route as much as we can."

**************************************************************************

"We need a more defensible position!" shouted Teyla, crouched amid rubble and dead trees. The 'Gate could be seen in the distance. Tantalizingly unguarded. But a line of Wraith blocked any access.

"You think?" screeched Rodney, cowering but firing his weapon. Laser fire zinged past him, imploding yet another dead tree.

"Our best bet would be to head back to the laboratory–" Carson decided.

"You're right. We'll go on three. Lay down ground cover...now!" a marine shouted.

Rising the group fired and fled, racing for the larger buildings. Above a dart hummed. Its culling beam scanned the ground only inches from them. Taking one of the marines in its deadly wake. The team swerved wildly to avoid the next pass as the bright light hunted them, scouring everything in its path.

"This way! This way!" screamed Teyla, charging into the array of protective masonry. Rodney and Carson were both hot on her heels.

"Go, go, go!" shouted Ronon, swinging into view and lobbing grenades at the pursuing Wraith. The concussion missiles erupted, flooding the Wraith into a vicious ooze of gas.

"We lost Dawkins!" Teyla gasped, catching Ronon's arm. "Where is Colonel Caldwell?"

"Two klicks back north, keeping the way clear. We had a hell of a time with those four Wraith! Let's go!"

"The 'Gate is open but there are too many Wraith to approach it. We could only manage to kill two. The others are still there."

"This way!" Carson waved them through an arch, up a steep incline of rubble and broken stairs.

Steven eyed the team grimly, noting the absence of a marine. "This is the best we can do, for now. We can hold out here and wait for help."

"That's it? That's your great plan? To sit here and hope that help is coming?"

Irked by the incredulous tone Steven sighed. "Do you have a better idea, Doctor McKay? Because if you do I would like to hear it."

Rodney muttered, then fell silent.

Ronon stood behind a corner wall, peering past it. "They're not coming at the moment. They have us effectively pinned between them." Something sharp imbedded itself into his arm. Irritated he plucked it out, tossed it aside to resume his watch, gun trained on the enemy.

"Colonel, are the Wraith still searching the laboratory?"

"Yes, Doctor Beckett. What I can't understand is why, and what they hope to find." Steven frowned. "Maybe they set that distress beacon after all. To trap us. Ronon said these Wraith were different."

Teyla nodded. "They feel different. I cannot sense them as easily until they are almost upon us."

"Are you saying that this is a new breed of Wraith?" Rodney asked.

"Not a new one. But perhaps a different one," Carson mused. "An altered one." He flipped through the pages of the journal.

***************************************************************************

The humid air was cloying. The shady tunnel provided by the overarching trees provided only limited relief. Moira stopped. "Wait! I have to rest, please. I can't...I can't do this!" Disengaging herself from John she all but collapsed onto a fallen log.

"All right," John agreed as the team ahead of them stopped. "Five minutes–"

"No." Moira glanced back the way they had come, then down to her foot. The boot was seeped in blood. Crimson drops littered the grasses and ferns behind them. "I'm leaving a blood trail. Everything will follow it, and I am only slowing you down." She paused to breath deeply of the warm, heavy air. "Leave me here."

"What?" Evan vigorously shook his head. "We don't leave anyone behind!"

"You must. At this rate you will never make the 'Gate before nightfall. I've got...I've got this, I'll be fine..." She held up the hand gun. It wavered in her grasp. She lowered it.

John touched her rosy cheek. "You're feverish."

"Who knows that kind of bacteria exist in this lost world," she agreed.

"All the more reason to get you back to Atlantis," Evan argued.

"Moira's right. It will be more expedient to leave her."

"What?" exclaimed Evan and Thomas at the same time. Astonished at John's calm assessment they could only stare.

"You can make double time and get back to Atlantis. Bring a squad and Beckett and a Jumper,"

John instructed.

"We can't just leave Moira!" Evan stubbornly refused. "Sir," he added as an afterthought.

"I'll stay with her. Now go," John ordered. "We will follow as quickly as we can. Radio me when you reach the 'Gate."

Evan hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, sir." He touched Moira's arm. "We'll be right back."

She nodded. "I know." She watched the three men leave, their anxious backward glances before the vegetation swallowed them. She slumped against the tree behind her.

"Did you take the pain meds?"

"I took them. All of them."

"All?" John studied her. "Do you want another shot of–"

"Morphine? No...it makes me too woozy. Too sick."

"Do you want me to re-wrap your foot?"

"No. I just need to rest..."

He frowned. "Fine. But I need to re-wrap it." Scanning the trees he pulled the knife from his sheath at his side.

"With that?" she asked nervously. Stared up at him, blinking past weariness, pain, sweat.

He smiled. Moved to a dead tree stump amid the ferns. He chipped at the wood, digging into the heart of the bark. "We don't have the medical supplies you need." He grabbed a bandage from the pack, coated it with a sticky, amber substance.

"What is that?" she asked, watching him.

He knelt by her feet. "Pine resin. It's a natural antibiotic." At her skeptical frown he added, "Hey, I watch the Discovery channel. Hold still, Moira." Carefully he cut the duct tape, opening the ripped leather of the boot.

"Are you sure about that?" she asked, stifling a moan as he carefully moved the bloody bandages, replacing them with the gooey one.

"Yes." He secured the boot together once more. Wiped his bloody hands on the grasses still wet with morning dew. "Here." He handed her a water bottle. "Drink." He stood, glanced warily at the area. "Looks like your second Eden has turned into a savage garden."

"They're one and the same. Here." She returned the bottle to him. She struggled to rise. "I can go on, now, really, I–"

"Well, I need to rest," he retorted, gently easing her back onto the log. He sat next to her. "You don't happen to have another turkey sandwich, do you?"

She smiled. "I'm afraid not."

"Oh well. Ration bars it is. I thought those guys would never leave us alone," he said, handing her a bar. He opened his, all the while scanning the surroundings.

"Does this mean you're going to buy me that drink, colonel?"

He smiled, met her gaze. "As soon as we reach Atlantis." Without missing a beat or altering his tone he asked, "What about the sex?"

"What?" Moira nearly choked on her ration bar.

John gently laughed. "The sexual reproduction of the Wraith. How they reproduce. What did you think I meant, doctor?"

She scowled at him, shook her head. "Soldiers," she grumbled. Looked past him to the greenery. "Look."

They watched a small deer-like animal timidly emerge from the ferns. A few more followed. Their dappled coats were perfect camouflage in the shade. No antlers topped their dainty heads. Tiny tusks protruded from their delicate mouths.

"You see. Not everything is gigantic," she commented.

"No, not everything," he agreed. He waited. Waited. Glanced at her. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Come on, you know you want to," he intoned playfully, raising his eyebrow. Smiled. Glanced at the herd of miniature deer as they grazed.

She smiled. "You know I can't resist. All right." She studied the beautiful creatures. "_Micromeryx._" Suddenly the little herd took flight, bounding gracefully into the undergrowth.

"I wonder what spooked them."

"Besides us?" John cradled his P90 in the crook of his arm, gaze narrowing as he studied the dense foliage.

"I don't think it was the sub-wraith. The birds are still singing," Moira commented. She gasped.

John lifted his gun but she touched the barrel, lowering it.

Four hominids walked out of the bushes. Holding primitive weapons they stopped, stared. They were short, somewhat hairy, with long arms, sloped brows, receding chins. The silence was absolute as past and present met.

"Are those–" John began slowly.

"Distant relations. A side branch. _Paranthropus robustus_," she answered just as softly.

"And the sub-wraith?"

"Feed on them. They are not directly related to humans so those sub-wraith would be considered an early subspecies, not a direct antecedent."

The four males made grunting sounds. More curious than fearful they approached warily. One shook a long stick as if in warning.

Abruptly Moira sneezed. The four hominids exclaimed in a guttural voice, then fled into the bushes once more. "I must have scared–"

"No. You didn't." John had taken note of where the creatures had looked before fleeing. He rose to his feet, spun round, the P90 in his firm grip. "That did."

A snuffling growl broke the birdsongs as an animal stole from the shadows. Its giant head was bent down to sniff at the blood trail dotting the grasses. The blood trail left by Moira. The massive skull was thirty-three inches long. Snarling it displayed rows of pointed teeth from its long snout. Tiny ears and eyes were focused on the two humans. The long, large body was a tawny hue, striped on the back. Its feet were cloven. A long tail whisked the ferns behind it. At nearly five inches at the shoulder it was easily the king of the jungle.

Moira struggled to her feet. "It's...it's an order of _condylarths._ The largest known land carnivore to have ever existed. _Andrewsarchus mongoliensis."_

"I'm afraid I am going to have to kill this one. If I can." John eyed the rippling muscles of the enormous beast, dubious.

The ground shook. A trumpeting filled the air. The animal glanced round, then turned, trotting back the way it had come. Trees parted.

"Don't shoot! It's a herbivore! I think."

"You think?" John queried, skeptical. The trees bowed. Revealing an animal that towered over them, over the trees. Soft brown fur ruffled in the breeze. Using its long, clawed front limbs it pulled down another tree. A pink tongue delicately secured the leaves as it sat back on its massive haunches. "Hey, I know this one! Giant ground sloth, right?"

"_Chalicotherium grande, _yes. An extinct genus of plant eaters," she agreed as the horse-like face turned to them. Placidly the animal resumed feasting.

"Good." John eased his hold on the gun. "Just the same we had better get moving. Give me your arm and you can–"

"Colonel!" The radio crackled. "Colonel Sheppard, the 'Gate won't dial!"

"Come again, major?" He exchanged a puzzled glance with Moira.

"The 'Gate won't dial out! I get half an address inputted and it stops dead! Kavanaugh says the DHD is functioning, the crystals are all fully–"

"So it's not a technical problem?" John asked.

"No, sir. And we have some company so we'd like to get through the 'Gate ASAP."

"Company?"

"If the DHD is functional why can't Evan complete the sequence?" Moira asked, sitting back down on the log before she fell. Rivers of pain cascaded up and down her leg.

John thought. "Major, the DHD is probably locked down, like this address was on Atlantis. It will take two people with the ATA gene to–"

"Yes, sir, but that's not working either. Josephes has the gene but only from gene therapy, not, um, naturally, like me. Or you. Or Moira. Could that make a difference?"

John frowned. "Sounds like it, major." He met Moira's pain-filled gaze.

"Sir, if you could–" Gunfire interrupted over the radio. "Hold the line, Josephes! Colonel, our company is becoming very–" Another round of fire.

"Damn it!" John swore. "Hold your twenty! We're coming!"

"Go, John." Moira said. Calm. Collected.

"What? I'm not leaving you!"

"We both know I will never make it in time. The others are pinned down at the 'Gate. You have to go complete the dialing sequence. I'll be fine."

"I can't just leave–"

The radio crackled. "Sir, we're having trouble holding position! Those things are circling us. They won't go down! We–" More gunfire.

"Major Lorne!" John cursed again, eyes on Moira.

"I'll be fine, John. This is my element. Go. Go now before it is too late!" she urged. At his silent, considering gaze she continued. "I have the gun. Point and shoot. Open end that way," she gestured towards the trees.

He shrugged off his pack, set it next to her. "Take this. I'll be back, I swear."

"I know. Now go!"

He nodded, whirled to leave. He was halfway across the tree-line when Moira shouted. "John!"

He whirled, ran back to her. "What is it? Can you–"

Abruptly she drew his face down to hers, hands sliding up to his shoulders. Interrupted his words with a lengthy kiss. Her mouth moving under his, taking in the softness of his lips, the fullness of his mouth. Parting slightly to brush the tip of her tongue against his, as if inviting further exploration. The subtle brush of his scratchy jaw against her skin made her feel a tiny shiver.

"For luck," she explained when she had pulled back from him, gazing into his brilliant green eyes.

He smiled as her hands slid from his shoulders as he straightened. He licked his lips, as if to savor every last drop, every taste of her. "I'll be right back. I promise."

Moira sighed, staring after him as he sprinted into the greenery and was gone. She slumped back against the tree as the heat and pain overwhelmed her.

*************************************************************************

"'Gate activating! Richards' IDC!" the technician shouted, punching buttons. The Atlantis Stargate's chevrons were lit one by one.

"Open the Iris!" Elizabeth ordered calmly. "Stand by," she advised the line of waiting marines. "We don't know what's happening yet."

"He's coming in hot!"

A second later Richards ran through the event horizon, whirling to fire as a laser blast followed.

"Shut it down! Shut it down!"

The event horizon dissipated as the Iris whirled shut. Elizabeth entered the 'Gateroom and strode to the breathless marine. "Richards? Where is your team?"

"Pinned down, ma'am, by the Wraith!" He paused, catching his breath. "Colonel Caldwell requests immediate assistance!"

"You heard him! Assemble two squads immediately! Has anyone been injured?"

"No, ma'am, but the Wraith are blocking access to the 'Gate."

"Colonel!" Evan hailed him. John came running down the ridge, simultaneously firing and dodging two large predators. Momentarily the animals halted. "Where is–"

"No time! Dial!" John ordered. Swiftly they dialed Atlantis together, hands rushing over each symbol. John activated his IDC.

"You left her?" Evan exclaimed as the chevrons locked. The KAWOOSH startled the animals away from the men.

"I had no choice! I'm going back!"

"Sir!" Aaron shouted as the animals rushed in a violent attack. Amidst gunfire the event horizon shimmered. Evan shoved Thomas into the 'Gate. Aaron fell into John and both men spun into the shimmering 'Gate.

"Offworld activation! Colonel Sheppard's IDC!"

"Open the Iris!" Elizabeth grasped the balcony rail as the Iris unfolded. The 'Gate shimmered to life again. Bullets pinged off the Lantean architecture. Four men crashed onto the floor, weapons firing. An enormous creature followed before the 'Gate could disengage.

Instantly the marines opened fire as the men rolled out of the way. Under the barrage of weaponry the creature finally went down. Was still.

"John! What is that?" Elizabeth demanded, cautiously entering the 'Gate room. Richards trailed her, gun at the ready.

"_Andrewsarchus._ I have to get back!"

"Andrew who?"

"Doesn't matter. I have to get back to–"

"No. You have to lead these teams to rescue Caldwell and the others. They are trapped by the Wraith on the Hoffan homeworld."

John stared at her. "What? Why are they–"

"Long story. Short story, go and get them."

"Major Lorne can do that. I have to go back to get Doctor O'Meara. She was injured and is alone out there."

"He left her behind to get us through the 'Gate," Evan explained.

"I didn't have a choice!" John snapped to the accusatory tone. "I have to go now!"

"Did you leave her in a safe place?"

The question took him aback. "What? Yes...for now. But there are creatures there beyond any imagining. Elizabeth, there is a sub-wraith species that hunts–"

"I'm sorry, John, but we need to prioritize. Doctor O'Meara is not in any immediate danger. Caldwell and your team are."

"My team?" John asked, scowling. "What the hell is Caldwell doing leading my team?"

"Then I'll got and get Moira," Evan offered.

"No, major. From what Lieutenant Richards has told me it will take both of you to pull this off successfully. They are surrounded by some sort of super-wraith and need help. Now."

"I can't just leave–" John argued.

"And you won't, John. After this. You don't have a choice," Elizabeth sympathized. "Mckay, Beckett, Teyla, and Ronon are out there fighting for their lives."

"We don't leave anyone behind," he argued, stressing the words.

"No, we don't," she agreed. "Go get your team first. I'll try to send another team to–"

"Try?"

"You need to go, John. Now," Elizabeth argued.

***************************************************************************

"You are bleeding." Teyla secured some bandages from her TAC vest.

"It's nothing." Ronon stoically stood watch. Moon set flooded the rubble-strewn ruins with silver light. Creating shadows out of nothing. Or so he hoped. Lights twinkled in the distance. Where the Wraith waited.

Teyla wiped the blood streaking Ronon's bare arm. Seeing him wince she said nothing. Finding the source of the wound she cleaned and wrapped it tightly. "Why do they not attack?"

"They don't have to attack. They are between us and the 'Gate. We are effectively trapped. And they know it. They can cull us whenever they want."

"I think I liked it better when they were trying to kill us," she wryly remarked. "Is that better?"

"Yes. Thank you." He looked back at the encroaching darkness. "What are they waiting for?" he asked, echoing her. "They certainly don't need reinforcements. They are very difficult to kill."

"I wish I knew," she mused.

"I am so hungry I could eat a horse," Rodney grumbled. Distracting his mind from the terror with more mundane concerns. "Or even a club sandwich. Or a bag of chips. Or a chocolate."

"A ration bar will have to do," Carson offered, handing him one absently. He was perusing the notes.

"You don't want yours?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Suit yourself." Rodney took a big bite, spoke round it. "Elizabeth will send reinforcements. Any time now. Absolutely."

"If Richards made it through," Carson dourly noted.

"Which he did. He's a trained soldier. He knows what to do."

"We don't know that for certain, Rodney."

"Yes, we do! What is that, anyway?" He snatched the papers from Carson's hands.

Carson snatched them back. "Hoffan notes. The last Hoffan notes. About their final days. The final dispersal of the serum."

"Anything of interest, doctor?" Steven asked, joining them.

Carson flipped the pages. "Possibly. The odd differences Teyla and Ronon have noticed in the Wraith's physiology and behavior–"

"Yes?" encouraged Steven.

"Well, I cannot be certain without a proper autopsy of a Wraith subject, and comparison of its DNA structures to the Wraith we have previously encountered."

"For God's sake, Carson, spit it out! In English!" Rodney snapped.

"In English, Rodney, these Wraith are different. I believe at a molecular level. Somehow their genetic code has mutated or been altered. Moira would say they evolved naturally. Unnaturally or no they are superior to the other Wraiths, and somehow it may connect to the Hoffan serum. If I am right, they are somehow changing, adapting their protein molecules."

"The Hoffan drug? The same Hoffan drug that kills them?" Rodney asked. Skeptical.

"Aye."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Steven asked. As puzzled as Rodney.

"Exactly?" Carson shrugged. "I don't know. Theoretically, if these notes are valid, these Wraith are more Iratus bug than human."

"Is that not the opposite of your retro virus?" Teyla asked, lured into the discussion.

"Yes. And like it this may only be temporary. If Moira is right the two strands of DNA are so interwoven they cannot be permanently separated. Which also means the Wraith may be experimenting. Not on humans, but on each other."

************************************************************************

John grabbed the controls of the Puddle Jumper. "We go in fast, cloaked. Get a fix on their position and extricate our people. Major?"

"Understood, sir," Evan agreed in the other Jumper.

The two ships flew through the blue wormhole. They streaked out of the 'Gate into the dead air of the Hoffan homeworld. A Wraith viper was skimming the altitude below them. Shining its deadly culling beacon over the barren landscape.

"Jumper two, target that viper on our return."

"Copy that, sir. I've got a reading on our people. Twenty klicks south."

"Then let's go."

"We've got company." Ronon gestured out towards the laboratory. Steven and the others joined him.

"What do you see?" Teyla asked.

Steven pulled on his night vision goggles. "Three Wraith. Carrying someone."

"What? Let me see!" Carson took Teyla's offered goggles, looked. A man struggled in the grasp of the Wraith.

"How can that be? There were no life signs. Everything was dead on this planet. Until we arrived," Rodney asserted. "No Hoffans survived."

"One did," Ronon corrected.

"That's not a Hoffan," Steven observed, adjusting the zoom on his lenses. The world was a phosphorescent green. The man in the viewfinder stumbled, then was dumped onto the ground. "He's one of ours."

"What?" exclaimed Rodney, grabbing the goggles from Beckett. "Who?"

Steven lowered the goggles, went for his gun. "It appears to be you."

"It looks like they are scouring the remains of the city," Evan remarked. "Apart from our guys there are no other life signs. What could they want on this dead world?"

"Our team. Two miles to the outcrops.. Stay in the air. I'll find a place to land." A pair of darts zipped above them, then disappeared into the night. "Great! More of them," John grumbled.

"They didn't come through the 'Gate, sir."

"Then where...a hive ship," John realized. "Of course. Scan the planet's orbit. Discreetly. Whatever is left on this planet they want it badly."

***********************************************************************

Moira broke from her dozing, wondering what had awakened her. The world swam in greens and golds until she blinked. She pressed the button on the radio. "John? Evan?" Silence. Not even a responding crackle.

The warmth was oppressive. She tried the radio again. "Colonel? Major? Is anyone there?" A chorus of birdsong filled the air, sensuous melodies. She struggled to her feet. Finding a long, broken branch to act as a cane she lifted both packs and began to limp along the tree-line. "If anyone is there I am heading for the 'Gate."

A round of guns were pointed at Rodney. He raised his hands in the air. "Hey! Hey, it's me! You know it's me! The real one! Look again!"

"It must be the real McKay. Who else whines like that?" asked Ronon seriously.

Steven turned to view the scene. The man was being forced to his knees, not by any physical contact but by the psychic energy of the Wraith. "It's still McKay...wait...for a moment it looked like...how is he doing that?"

"He's not doing it. They are!" Teyla realized. She suddenly fell to her knees, grimacing. "Block them! Close your minds!"

A psychic energy wave hit them. Steven staggered. Rodney dropped his data screen. Carson fell to his knees. Ronon tottered but lifted his gun and fired. Volley after volley flew from his big gun, piercing the air.

The hold snapped. Teyla sprang to her feet, firing her gun. Steven joined them. "What the hell was that?"

"I do not know, colonel. But it is a formidable power."

"They're coming! Up the ridge! Hundreds!" a marine shouted.

"Hundreds? I see only two, son," Carson corrected calmly.

"Great, just great, they know our position," Rodney cursed.

"Would you rather be paralyzed by their minds?" Ronon argued.

"Maybe! Better than being shot!" Rodney lashed back.

"Fall back! Fall back!" Steven ordered. The crumbling masonry began to disappear. Bullets flew wildly as lasers lit the air.

A blue flash took out a marine. Carson was next. Then Steven. Teyla and Ronon exchanged a grim look but before either could react they were shot from behind. The third shot finally took out Ronon. Rodney stared round, as four Wraith encircled him and the stunned bodies of his companions. "I surrender! I surrender! There's no need to shoot!"

"You are the one we want," a Wraith informed the scientist. Its gravelly voice was deep. "The one the others most fear to lose."

"I am?" Surprise. "I am." Smugness. "Huh...why, exactly?"

"Yes, Doctor Beckett. Your knowledge is our greatest threat."

"Whoa, whoa, hold on a minute. I'm not Beckett. I'm McKay, Doctor Rodney McKay, brilliant physicist and–"

"You are not Beckett? The one your people want to protect is the one who is the greatest threat to our survival." The Wraith cocked its head, puzzled.

"True, and that would be me. How could anyone mistake me for Beckett?" Rodney asked, genuinely offended. "What he calls science is merely the practice of that which used to be reserved for barbers while I am an actual scientist. And I am better-looking," he added, running out of words as the Wraith stepped closer. Snarled. Raised its stunner. "Okay, okay, here's the truth. I am Beckett. I was lying earlier. Really, it was just a test, just a test, and congratulations, you passed," he nervously babbled, but the stunner's point was aimed at his chest. "Don't shoot, there's no need to shoot me!" He raised his hands, closed his eyes.

"Get down, Rodney!" John's voice shouted over the radio.

Startled Rodney sprawled onto the ground as John fired repeatedly into the Wraith. The squad of marines followed, encircling the enemy in a surprise attack. Two Wraith fell to the repeated volleys. The other two retreated, snarling.

"Get to our people, now! Rodney, come on!" John shouted.

"They're not dead, sir!" a marine exclaimed, stepping round a groggy Wraith.

"Then move quickly, sergeant!" John ordered. "McKay!"

The scientist ran towards his friend. "Sheppard! I am glad to see you!" He caught himself before he hugged him. "I almost died back there! The–"

"Short version. What happened?"

"This happened!" Rodney spread his arms, indicating the scene. "There are Wraith everywhere!"

"Colonel?" A groggy Teyla struggled to her feet, helped by Carson.

"What the...sir?" A marine pointed. The downed Wraith abruptly stood. A weird humming filled the air. Seemingly out of nowhere more Wraith appeared in the distance.

"Block it! Block your minds!" Teyla urged.

"Shoot! Shoot!" Rodney ordered, grabbing a gun. He fired wildly into the Wraith. The soldiers followed his example.

"Fall back! To the Jumper!" John waved the team past him. "Lorne! Now would be a good time!"

"Squad one, fall back!" Steven ordered. "Colonel Sheppard, get the Jumper ready! Squad two with me, now!"

John ran, uncloaking the ship as he did. The vessel appeared suddenly in the clearing. He had just reached the controls when Steven and his team joined the rest. John slid into the pilot's seat. "Hold on!" The Jumper rose, taking fire as a Wraith dart appeared to pursue.

"Cloak this thing, fast!" Steven ordered, clutching the back of the chair as he stood. "Major Lorne, lead us to the 'Gate, now!"

"Yes, sir!"

"We need to take out those Wraith darts first...sir," John corrected. "Before they can transmit to the hive ship."

"There's a hive ship?" Teyla asked, startled.

"Major Lorne, do not dial the 'Gate until all hostiles are down. Copy?"

"Roger that, colonel. On your mark."

"Colonel..." Carson staggered to the front of the ship as it swerved wildly in the air. "We can't leave just yet."

"What? Everyone is accounted for–"

"Yes, but these Wraith are markedly different. Different enough to need a specimen of their DNA for analysis."

"We don't have time, Carson," John refused. After another swift turn he cloaked the ship, then swung round to pursue their attacker. "Strap in!"

"Doctor Beckett is right, Sheppard," Steven agreed. "We need to find out what these Wraith are doing here."

"We should go now, especially as they are after you, Carson!" Rodney argued, joining them.

"Me?"

"Yes, although why they would want you instead of me is incomprehensible."

"We are going back to Atlantis," John interrupted sternly.

"No. And that is an order, lieutenant colonel," Steven said. "Major Lorne, hold your position near the 'Gate. Take no action unless you deem it absolutely necessary. Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard, fly us back to the Hoffan laboratory. We have to see what these Wraith wanted."

John fired his weapons, obliterating the dart as it zigged in front of him. He kept flying straight.

"Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard, I said now."

Biting back any argument or retort John veered the vehicle around, causing many to lose their footing. "Yes, sir," he replied tightly. As Steven took the co-pilot's seat, much to Rodney's annoyance John added, "Just so you know, sir, we were forced to leave a member of Lorne's team back on M3X-087. I am going back to–"

"I'm sorry to hear that, lieutenant colonel, and you will go back in due time. This intel takes priority. It could be crucial."

"You left someone behind?" Carson asked. "How–"

"I didn't have a choice!" John snarled.

"And you don't now. Drop down five meters," Steven advised. "There. What is that?" He pointed.

Two Wraith were carrying a long cabinet out of the ruins. It was heavily damaged on one side, exposing wires. A yellowish fluid dripped out of it.

"It looks like a coffin," Rodney noted unhappily.

"Whatever it is we can prevent them from taking it," John observed, thumb hovering over the missile button.

"Easy, Sheppard. Let's see what they do."

The Wraith set the box down. They opened it, lifting the lid with a ponderous cloud of dust. Sparks flew. Another Wraith appeared, dragging a struggling human. With a shove the human fell face first into the box.

"Is that McKay?" John asked, glancing behind him at the scientist.

"For once and for all, I am Rodney McKay!" he asserted. "Why are they still using a likeness of me?"

"It's obviously a Wraith projection. Over a real human body. How I can't explain," Carson said.

"Oh, I can explain. How many of us would want to see Rodney in the hands of the Wraith," John dryly admitted.

Rodney scowled. "Ha, ha. Obviously they are using the most important team member, despite their interest in Carson, as bait for the rest of you to rescue."

"You may have something there, Rodney," Carson agreed.

"You see–"

"Except for the first part. Their psychic abilities seem to be stronger than your average Wraith."

"Meaning they can make us even see things we know cannot be true." All eyes swung to Rodney again at Steven's assessment.

"Oh, come on! For the last time I am the one and only Rodney McKay!"

"Thank God there's only one," muttered John. He turned forward suddenly. "I know that face. Isn't that the Hoffan leader?"

"One of them, I think, yes, colonel," Carson agreed, peering out the viewport. "Some did survive the initial culling."

"They're going to feed on him. But won't that just kill them?" Ronan asked. Blood trickled down his arm again.

"Let me have a look at that, son," Carson offered.

"It's fine," Ronon grunted.

"Can you get in closer?" Teyla asked. She pointed to the man as he was shoved into the box again. Straps clamped over his arms and legs. They injected the man with a crude, long needle. One Wraith leaned close, extending its hand over the man's chest. Instead of feeding the man's chest suddenly spurted blood. The red spray doused the Wraith. Instantly the other lunged at its companion, pressing its hand over the blood-encrusted chest. Feeding on him. Slowly the first Wraith sunk in upon itself. Fell to the ground as a dry husk.

"Did...did everyone see that?" Rodney asked in a hush.

"I saw it but I don't believe it. What the..." Steven's voice trailed into silence.

"They're feeding...on each other?" John asked in disbelief.

"Not exactly. Look," Teyla shook her head as the seemingly dead Wraith revived stood. Stared right at the cloaked Jumper as if it could see it.

"Can they see us?" asked Ronon, incredulous.

"No. No way," Rodney shook his head. "Not a chance!"

"They can. Pull up, colonel, now!" Teyla warned.

John lurched the Jumper over the lab. Just before a laser shot from the darkness of the ruins.

"How did you–"

"I felt it. But only just. They are blocking me. We have to get out of here, Colonel Caldwell. That box...whatever it is it is also a weapon."

"I saw that box...in the ruins..." Ronon muttered.

"Oh my God," Carson interrupted. "We did. It had vials...vials and wires...like a processing system...the Hoffan drug transmuted into...into..."

"They're targeting us!" Steven warned.

"Not any more. Lorne, fly in tandem. We are taking out that dart and the Wraith here. On my mark dial Atlantis. Unless you have any objections...colonel?"

"No. Not at this time, lieutenant colonel," Steven replied, ignoring the snarky tone. But not forgetting it either. "Carry on."

"Everyone strap down. This is going to get rough," John advised.

"This is why I hate space travel," Rodney muttered.

"Quiet, Threepio. Here we go."

John swung the vehicle round again. He fired on the ground, taking out the Wraith and the box as Evan fired on the laboratory ruins. Both ships swept high into the atmosphere, chasing two darts that zipped past them. Then flipped up and over them. To pursue them.

"Damn! Hold on!" John swerved, dove, avoiding the lasers streaking all around him.

"How can they see us? We are cloaked, right?" Rodney asked. "We must be cloaked, I mean you would have naturally cloaked us first to–"

"Yes, Rodney," John answered. He threw the ship into reverse, once more becoming the pursuer. Dropped the cloak to fire on the darts.

"It could be a by-product of their increased psychic abilities," Carson theorized.

"Or superior technology," Ronon said.

"Or intel from whatever they found in the Hoffan lab," Teyla suggested.

"Colonel Sheppard! Incoming hostiles! From the hive ship! Five o'clock!" Evan warned.

"That's it. There are too many of them." Steven leaned over to the viewport. "Target the labs in the next sweep. Major Lorne, dial the 'Gate."

"You really should let me take a look at that," Carson offered, eying Ronon's bleeding arm. He reached out to touch the soiled bandage.

"I said it's fine!" Ronon snapped, lashing out to rap Carson across the face. The doctor fell back with a bloodied lip.

"Ronon!" Teyla shouted, as guns swept up to surround him.

"Colonel Sheppard, we have a problem back here!" Rodney called.

"I'm a little busy, McKay, saving your ass," John quipped over his shoulder. He spun the Jumper in a pass, firing on the ruined buildings. Flames engulfed them. Stones crumbled. A whole section exploded and crashed into the underground bunkers.

"Ronon?" Teyla touched his arm.

Ronon shook his head, as if dazed. He stared at the guns pointed at him, met her gaze. "Teyla? What's going on?"

"You do not know? What happened just now?" She stared at him, assessing. Glanced at the marines with their guns trained on Ronon.

"No. I..." he glanced down at his sore knuckles. Up at Carson's bloody lip. "Did I...I'm sorry, doc, I don't know what came over me."

"I might," Carson said sternly, holding a towel to his lip. "No one touch the blood unless you have gloves. How did you get injured?"

"Something hit me. A projectile...a tiny dart of sorts. Do you think it infected me?" Ronon asked, discomforted.

"The blood?" Teyla asked, glancing down to her own hands. Remembered tending the injury.

"Dialing the 'Gate and sending IDC, sirs," Evan reported.

"We're on your six, major. Go," John said.

***********************************************************************

Moira shivered. Twilight was descending in a hush of violets and blues. The humid air was filled with sounds and cries. She paused again, wiping sweat from her brow, dropping the heavy packs to the ground. A huge dragonfly flew past her. Squirrels scrambled in the trees. She tapped the radio. "Hello? Anyone?" Her fingers fumbled. "They must have made it though...they must have made it through," she kept repeating. She resumed moving.

Full darkness was fast approaching. Moira shivered at the drop in temperature. She pulled John's jacket out of his pack, pulled it on with trembling fingers. The river was alive with sounds. Loud splashes of water. Screams of birds. Snarls of predators. She hesitated, loath to leave the relative safety of the trees for the more open plain. The path to the Stargate was invisible, swathed in shadows. Large creatures moved slowly, bellowed quietly to one another.

Her foot ached. Finally deciding she limped precariously further into the trees. Ferns and vines snagged her boots. A low-pitched whine made her whirl, shine her flashlight. A pair of large eyes shone brightly, then shied away into the undergrowth. Reaching a particularly large tree she slung both packs over her shoulders. Grabbing a branch she lunged herself upwards. Groaning loudly with the pain in her foot she climbed, finally settling in a crook of a long branch. To wait out the long, lonely night.

*****************************************************************

John settled the ship into the 'Gateroom as Lorne guided his down to the Jumper bay. A marine opened the hatch and the men began to disembark. "Colonel Sheppard!" A young lieutenant ran towards the Jumper as it disgorged its occupants. "Colonel Caldwell, sir." The man saluted smartly, waited.

"Lieutenant Riley, at ease. That way, Ronon," John said, escorting the large Satedan warily. A host of marines stood watching, waiting. John turned back to the young man. "Riley?"

"Sir!" He saluted.

"Report?" he prompted, wondering at the young man's nervousness. He turned to look for Carson.

"Sir, we couldn't find her."

John whirled. "Come again?"

The marine nervously swallowed. "We crossed the, the ridge, sir. Searched a grid by grid perimeter, sir. The creatures! The creatures there...we could barely get through in some places. It was full-on night, sir! We couldn't make it past the river. When we heard a strange, piercing wail we headed back to the 'Gate. Johnson got mauled by a sabertooth cat before we dialed Atlantis and got through..." His words fell away under John's increasing glower.

John stalked past the marine, grabbed Carson by the arm. "Carson! I need you with me!""

"Are you injured, John?"

"No–"

"Then I've got to see to Ronon. I fear that wound on his arm is infected with some kind of Wraith serum. I've got to get it out of his system and Teyla may be infected as well if they blood somehow got into her system."

"Wraith serum? Someone else can do that, Carson. I need you to go with me," John explained, not relinquishing his hold on the doctor's arm. "Moira is on that planet alone. Injured. Seriously injured."

"Moira? Why didn't you say so?" Carson chided. "Let me grab my kit and I'll be right back!"

He ran out of the 'Gateroom.

"Colonel Sheppard?" Steven stood outside the Jumper. "We need to have a briefing with Doctor Weir."

"After I go get Doctor O'Meara."

"Send Major Lorne. This newest intel on the Wraith has to be discussed."

"Then discuss it without me. Beckett! Let's go!" John called, seeing the doctor hurrying towards the ship, bag in tow.

"I am giving you a direct order, lieutenant colonel. Major Lorne can more than handle the rescue of one scientist–"

"Major Lorne has all the intel I have on this mission," John argued. "I don't leave people behind, sir. Beckett, let's go!" The doctor had been held up again as he instructed his assistants who hovered around Ronon.

"Go, John!" Elizabeth intervened. "We can re-group later."

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Carson halted, then moved past Steven and Elizabeth. "The medics are cleaning Ronon's wound and giving him a mild sedative to counteract the serum. They are also checking Teyla to be sure she is not infected."

John smiled his thanks to Elizabeth, closed the Jumper's hatch. "We need to dial the address together. On three," John instructed, ushering the doctor to the co-pilot's seat.

"Where was she injured?"

"The foot. Ankle. It's a deep, serrated cut. To the bone. I think it might be infected. Maybe some broken bones."

"Good Lord...which bones?"

"I don't know. The toes, or the middle–"

"There are twenty-six bones in the human foot, colonel, not to mention the ankle and the arteries supplying blood. The phalanges and the metatarsals would not be serious breaks but if the cuneiforms or the navicular–"

"What is it with you doctors and your Latin?" John grumbled as the event horizon flared to life.

"I'm not a doctor, Carson! I only know it was bad. And they couldn't find her." He guided the ship into the wormhole.

**************************************************************************

Moira woke, sat up. Nearly fell off the branch but caught herself. She looked round, confused. Memory returned. As did the insistent pain in her foot. A chittering drew her attention to another branch. Red-furred animals were climbing up and down the tree. She smiled, opened the pack, sipped some water. She nibbled on a ration bar, but replaced most of it, not hungry. She wiped her brow. Pushed the button on the radio. "Hello? Evan? John? I thought I heard voices in the night...I guess not."

She dropped the packs to the ferns. Scattered a flock of flightless birds. She began the arduous climb down to the ground. Her foot wrenched. She cried out, fell hard to the ferns.

**************************************************************************

John set the Jumper down at the ridge, unable to get closer. The plain was teeming with wildlife, the river a silver, sparkling ribbon cutting across the tall grasses. He pulled up a schematic, frowned. "Too many life signs! I can't distinguish Moira's from the rest!" He jumped out of the seat, grabbed his gun. Ran to the hatch to open it. Ran back. "Carson!"

Carson was entranced. He was staring out the viewport at the amazing creatures. "Good Lord...it's like...it's like..."

"I know, doc! Let's go!" John hauled him out of the seat, out of the ship.

"Moira! Moira, do you copy?" John tried the radio. Silence. "Damn it. Where could she be?"

He grabbed his binoculars. "I left her in the tree-line."

"Well, there's no way she could have crossed that river. Especially at night. She would have sought shelter. Safety."

"The trees, then. Come on, Carson." He pulled the doctor down the ridge.

They were forced to stop near the river. Giant elephant-like creatures blocked their way. A trumpeting nearly deafened them. The ground shook as the monsters crossed the river.

Carson stumbled, nearly fell. "What the...colonel?"

John looked down at Carson's feet. Saw the severed arm of the sub-wraith. "Bag that. We'll need it." He cursed under his breath. "We'll have to head up, over there. Watch out for–"

"Everything," Carson ruefully finished, wrapping the arm and stuffing it into his bag. "_Hic sunt dracones_ indeed!"

************************************************************************

Moira paused, stumbling. Disorientated she turned round again. Inadvertently she had shut off the radio. It hung uselessly from her pack. The trees surrounded her. Drenched in sunlight they were an emerald cathedral reaching endlessly to the sky. A giant wombat, taller than her brushed by, knocking trees aside in its path.

"_Diprotodon optatum,_" she identified to no one. She sipped some water, leaned back against a tree. Birds above her sang. A huge butterfly fluttered near, then disappeared.

John cupped his hands around his mouth. "Moira! Moira!" he shouted. He stood near the tree-line with Carson. A couple of sabertooth cats had been following them, but a burst of gunfire had scattered the pair.

The gunfire startled Moira. She looked round. A voice, distant. Thinking it was the radio she fumbled with the buttons. Hastily she limped as a graceful, giraffe-like creature almost trampled her.

"This way," John instructed, heading determinedly into the trees. "She has to be here, doc. She has to be here."

"We'll find her, John," Carson assured.

Moira fell. The makeshift cane flew from one hand with the gun, the packs from the other. She hit the ground hard, cried out as her foot twisted in agonizing pain. The sky was a turquoise brilliance.

A shadow fell upon her. She lifted her head, half-turning. An Irish elk stood near. Its massive antlers stretched across her and up into the trees. Then it moved onto the plain. Moira watched it head regally onto the open grassland. She struggled to her feet, limped to see a glittering pond. The water was a bluish smudge. Graceful animals lingered. Some herds moved off towards the plain. A large bird stood in the reeds, a fish dangling from its beak.

The radio crackled, startling her. She almost fell but caught herself on a tree branch. She heard a voice but it was indistinct. She fingered the button. "Hello? Who..."

"Moira! I've got you! I'm coming!" John's voice sang with relief.

"John? You..." She tried to move but stumbled again, fell to her knees. Her tearing vision could make out two figures through the trees. Running shadows on two legs. "Oh no..." She scooted backwards, reaching for the fallen packs. Her fingers found the gun and she pointed it towards the running figures. "Get back! Get back!"

The shot hit the dirt to the left of John. He swerved, never breaking stride. "Moira!" he shouted, "it's me! Don't shoot! Don't shoot!"

Moira struggled to her feet, groaning at the pain, clutching the gun so tightly another bullet flew. It hit the tree to John's right. "Get back!"

"Moira, it's me!" John neared, slowed and raised his empty hands. "See?"

She stared, blinked, lowered the gun. It dropped from her shaking hands. "John? What took you so long?" she demanded.

"I'm sorry, I...Carson!" He shouted as she collapsed against him. He eased her to the ground.

Carson knelt on her other side. "Moira? Moira?" He wiped the damp hair from her face. "Hold her arm, there. She needs to stay awake." He gave her a shot, then viewed her leg and foot. The boot was soaked in blood and grime.

"Ow!" Moira complained, flinching but John held her steadily. "What are you doing? Carson?"

She turned her head. "John? Where's John?"

"I'm here, Moira," he assured.

"You said you'd be back...you said you'd come back for me," she accused.

"I know. I did. I'm here," he repeated.

"This is some rescue," she grumbled, but cried out in agony as Carson turned her foot.

John's smile faded. "Easy, doc!"

"I do know what I'm doing," he retorted calmly, tightening the boot with gauze. "This will have to do for now, I'm afraid. On three. Up you go, lass."

She groaned as the men hoisted her to her feet. John grabbed the gun as Carson took the packs. "I had to go into, into the trees. To avoid predators. Just like our, our ancestors. Did Evan make it through the 'Gate? And, and Aaron...and that, that long-haired guy?"

"Yes, everyone did," John assured, a little rattled by the question. Slowly they helped her walk. John considered carrying her, could easily have swung her up into his arms but he needed his right hand free for his gun.

"I couldn't. I couldn't get to the 'Gate. I had to go into the trees...to avoid predators. Just like our, our ancestors. Did I already say that?"

"It's all right, Moira. You must be exhausted," Carson sympathized.

"John. John said there wasn't time to download more data from the, the lab. Sub-wraith. He doesn't like big bugs, did you know that, Carson?"

"Iratus bugs," John corrected. "Carson?"

"She's running a fever. Pay her no mind. What the bloody hell is that?"

They stopped at the end of the tree-line. The plains were crowded. Shadows of enormous beasts left them in temporary darkness. Towering above them, above the other animals and even the tallest trees stood three massive grey-skinned mammals. At twenty feet at the shoulder, weighing fifteen tons they loomed over everything. Pillar-like limbs ended in cloven feet. Stout necks swayed, supporting large, rhino-like hornless faces.

"_Indricotherium transouralicum._ The largest land mammals to have ever existed," Moira stated, staring up like the men. "Related to the rhinos. Herbivores. Aren't they beautiful?" Pure joy and amazement shone from her brown eyes, from her pale face.

"Those...are rhinos?" Carson gawked.

"They are our ticket out of here. No other animal will come near them. Let's go. The Jumper is waiting at the ridge," John instructed, looking past the massive creatures to scan the plain.

"We...can't do this," she stammered.

"It's all right, Moira. We're going back to Atlantis," John assured, glancing at Carson.

"I can't treat this here, love. It's already infected. Come on," Carson soothed. "We have to get you out of here."

The two men helped her awkwardly walk. Guiding her between them they approached the ridge where the Jumper sat. Carefully they passed the enormous beasts, staying safely in their long shadows.

"I need to stay. I need to study. This research, this wonderful place, I have to stay!"

"No, we have to go back to Atlantis," Carson reasoned.

She weakly tried to free herself. "No! I must stay here! There's so much to study, to learn, to observe! Oh no! I have to wait for John! He's coming back for me. He said!"

"What?" John asked.

"She is delirious. Keep moving," Carson advised. His worried expression did not bode well.

"The Jumper's not far."

"_Epicyon haydeni _hunt in packs. Order _Craniocera. _The _Thylaciomulus atrex _is an ancient marsupial.. Long. Longer than we thought."

"It's not far now, love. Try to conserve your energy," Carson insisted.

"We can't...we can't. The proto-wraith hunt in packs, no hives, hives like the Iratus bugs–" she babbled as they eased her into the Jumper. Her injured foot dragging uselessly behind her now.

"Ssh, it's all right. Let's strap you in and have a look at this foot, shall we?"

John ran to the controls and started the vessel. It hummed to life. "She's going to be okay, doc.

Isn't she?"

"Yes. Hold still, Moira." Carson carefully cut away the rest of her pant leg below the knee. Blood had encrusted the material to her skin and boot.

"Don't rip my clothes again, flyboy."

"What?"

"Inside joke, Carson. I need you here to dial with me."

"All right. Moira, I'll be right back."

"You said you'd be right back," she accused angrily. "You left me! You lied to me and left me out here!"

Carson exchanged a glance with John. "She doesn't know what she's saying, you know."

"Just dial," John gruffly stated.

Carson adjusted the IV tube, glanced down at his patient. He moved to the end of the bed, made a note on the chart. Turned and nearly collided with two men. "Colonel. Major."

"How is she, doc?" asked Evan. His worried gaze moved from Moira's pale face to her foot, elevated and encased in a cast.

"She'll be fine. After two hours of surgery we managed to save her foot. Now the rest is up to her."

"The rest?" asked John, also staring at her slumbering form.

"Fighting the infection. I've given her plenty of antibiotics so she'll be out for hours." Not taking the hint neither man moved. Carson tried again. "It will be several hours before she even awakens. And then she'll need her rest."

"Oh...I get it. I'll check back later," Evan finally realized. He glanced at John, then headed out of the infirmary.

"Colonel?" Carson raised his brows, glanced at the odd package slung under the man's arm.

"Make sure she gets this when she wakes up. I'll be back as soon as I can. I've got two briefings and some mission reports to make."

"I will, John," Carson agreed, taking the package and setting it near the bed. "Now please leave my patient to rest."

Ronon sat on another bed, watching the exchanges. Amused he remained silent until John had finally left. "Hey, doc, what about me? Can I go?"

Carson turned, strolled down to the Satedan. "Aye, that you can. You appear to be fully recovered from the virus. And I think I have enough samples of your blood to begin preliminary studies. Thankfully Teyla was not exposed to the virus when she treated your injury."

"Well, you always know where to get more blood if you need it," Ronon jested, moving to his feet. "Do you really think that something in my blood could defeat the Wraith?"

"Possibly. As I said, it's only a preliminary study. For all we know it could be a genetic fluke."

A laugh made Ronon turn his head. Teyla smiled. "Sorry."

"No you're not. All right, doc. This genetic fluke needs to get back into shape," Ronon stated.

"Teyla, you busy?"

She smiled. "Not at all. This way."

**************************************************************************

"As soon as Doctor Beckett and Doctor McKay can decipher these readings I suggest we lock off access to the Hoffan..." Steven paused as the conference room was infiltrated by two men. "Ah, lieutenant colonel, major, thank you for joining us," he said caustically.

Elizabeth smiled as the two men sat down. "We were just discussing the Hoffan mission. Care to add anything, colonel?"

"Yes, please. We would all love to hear your opinion. That is, if you can spare the time."

John frowned at Steven's acid tone. He met Elizabeth's gaze. "Yes, sir. I agree to the locking of that address, at least for now. The planet's dead and of no further interest to us. Whatever the Wraith wanted they took. Pity you weren't able to find out what it was, or to stop them," he added with a smile directed at Steven.

Steven frowned. "We gathered what intel we could. Which Doctor Beckett is analyzing right now. And if that distress beacon was some kind of directional weapon Doctor McKay will decipher it. I've read the initial reports of Major Lorne and Lieutenant Josephes concerning the fate of Lieutenant Bath."

John tensed slightly, glanced at Evan whose face bore a neutral expression. "Sir?"

"I can find no fault in your actions, lieutenant colonel. I would have done the same thing in your place."

"Thank you, sir."

"However, what I cannot and will not condone is the impetuous disregard of my orders."

"Sir?" John asked, although he knew full well what Steven meant.

"In my command we will follow the military protocol to the letter. The chain of command must be followed at all times. Doctor Weir has agreed to this. Now," Steven held up a hand before John could protest, "I know that there are civilians involved, and every mission has unique, extenuating circumstances, but from now on I expect all teams to follow strict military procedures. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Evan answered, speaking into the suddenly heavy silence.

"Thank you, major. Your service thus far has been exemplary."

"As has Colonel Sheppard's," Elizabeth interrupted. "I would hate to think that these military procedures would bar intuitive thinking and unusual solutions to unusual circumstances."

"There is some latitude, of course, but that is not what I am discussing. Is it, Sheppard?"

"No, sir," John mildly agreed.

"I'll expect your full mission reports back here at 0600. Understood? Dismissed."

Both men stood, saluted, left the room without another word.

"Was that really necessary?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes, I'm afraid it was. Sheppard may be a brave, intelligent leader but he is a loose cannon with a black mark on his record. Never forget that."

*************************************************************************

Moira stirred. She jerked awake, sitting up and nearly falling out of the bed as the sling rattled, trapping her foot.

"Whoa, whoa, it's all right, Moira. You're safe," Carson assured, hastening to her side. He touched her shoulders, easing her back. "Here." He gave her a sip of water. "How do you feel?"

"Carson..." She eyed her foot. "I...I dreamed you amputated..."

"No, no, love, your foot's all there. It took two hours. How do you feel?" he repeated.

"Tired. Sore. It feels strange. Being back in Atlantis, I mean." Her gaze drifted to the table. To the object wrapped in plastic. Congealed blood colored both ends. The lethal claws gave her an involuntary shiver, a remembered ache in her foot. But the incongruous red bow made her smile.

"Courtesy of Colonel Sheppard. Although why he would bring you a Wraith arm is beyond me. And I don't understand the bow. Another in-joke?"

"Yes..." She glanced past the doctor, scanned the lab. "Did he just give this to you?"

"No. He retrieved it when we went back for you. He did add the bow an hour ago. He wanted to wake you but you were asleep. Now he's busy with mission reports."

"Duty calls, I see." Disguising her disappointment she met Carson's gaze. "It's a sub-wraith arm. At least we will have more genetic material to study. The differences in both Iratus bug and _Paranthropus_ DNA should be quite striking compared to their modern equivalents."

"Aye...I've seen your initial notes from the–"

"May I have my laptop? I can start to sort the various data."

"Are you certain? You need to rest."

"I am. Please, Carson. We both know how important this is."

"All right," he conceded. "Let's get to work, shall we?"

***********************************************************************

The noise of the cafeteria was subdued, conducive to working. But John still closed his laptop and drummed his fingers on the cover. "Well?" he asked impatiently.

Rodney shrugged, tore his gaze from his own schematics. "I've looked at this thing backwards and forwards, upside down and right side up, and I don't know what it is. Yet," he added, lifting an admonishing finger before John could comment. "We know the Wraith have developed more telepathic abilities, but this...this box...beacon..thing..the wires...the serums..."

"You mean because they projected the likeness of you on that Hoffan?"

"Yes, not to mention the perceived multiplication of their numbers. It makes you wonder what was real. How many Wraith were truly there? What about the darts? Even the box may have been an illusion to conceal...something."

"I suppose you would have to analyze the–"

"And another thing," Rodney switched topics, pointing a finger at his friend. "Don't ever let Caldwell lead our team again!"

"Our team?" John asked.

"Yes," Rodney continued, oblivious to the correction. "My God, the man can't stomach anyone's opinions but his own!"

"Imagine that," John quipped, but added, "Rodney, lower your voice!" But the scientist was in full rant and would not be stopped. Or quieted.

"It's bad enough he ignored my suggestions and incalculable, vital observations but he also completely disregarded Ronon's insight! Now granted Ronon can be blunt in the best of times–"

"Unlike you," John interjected, to no avail.

"But he does know the Wraith and how they operate. Far better than most of us even today. And all of that military prattle, he was far worse than you, John! Ordering us about like we were his marines, not valued members of the alpha team. He only seemed to listen to Teyla. You think he has a thing for her?"

John caught himself before he spit out the water he had been drinking. Carefully he set the glass onto the table. "I'll have to ask her," he said, imagining the Athosian's horror.

"Where the heck is our lunch?" Rodney suddenly asked, turning in his chair. "Ah, at last!" A tray was set at his table by an apologetic assistant. Rodney grabbed a sandwich from the tray. "What is this?" He lifted a paper off another sandwich. "_Meleagris gallopavo mutatis mutandis?_

What the–"

"That's mine!" John snatched both note and sandwich smugly. "Turkey, with the necessary changes," he glibly translated.

"Necessary changes?" Rodney shook his head with incomprehension at his friend's evident enjoyment. "Who would send you that? And in Latin?"

John just smiled, bit into the food.

***********************************************************************

Carson rubbed his eyes, sat back from the microscope. He inputted the data into the computer screen. "What we have here is a microcosm of a species. From the data Doctor O'Meara and I have collected it is almost the evolutionary story of a species. The Wraith."

"Almost?" asked Elizabeth, standing next to him.

"Aye. It appears the Wraith are experimenting as much as we are. As much as the Ancients did."

"To what end?"

"Improvement of the species. Elimination of the enemy. Or a modification of what we developed." He frowned, thinking. "What we created is both a hindrance and a curse. And natural selection may have created another version as well."

"I'm not following. You mean the Hoffan drug?"

"Aye. I need to run more tests, but I fear the Wraith may be altering it in some way, to their advantage. And if they can't they will want to gain that knowledge from us. They think we know too much."

"And do we?"

"Nearly. We now know where they began. Even how, by accident , negligence, or design. We can almost predict with certainty how they will end. Or evolve. The final evolution of the species."

"A super-wraith?"

"Yes. And that scares me, Elizabeth. If there is a purer form of Wraith DNA they could be unstoppable. The retro-virus I developed strips away the insect DNA, leaving only the human. But it is only a temporary fix. If the Wraith find a way to suppress their weaknesses with the Hoffan serum..."

"Could they?"

"Possibly. I don't know. Right now it is deadly to them. And to half of the human population. But not all. I suspect the reason the Wraith cannot feed on Ronon is because he carries that same protein. Naturally."

"Naturally?" Elizabeth asked, bending closer to view the scrolling data on the screen.

"Aye. I'll have to run more tests to compare the natural proteins with the artificial ones. Moira would say the human population developed it naturally as a defense against their predators, over a long period of time. But it is hit and miss. Like the ATA gene."

"Not everyone carries it," she surmised.

"Exactly."

*************************************************************************

Moira looked up expectantly from her notes, smiled at Evan as he walked over to her bed. Her gaze flicked past him, but he was alone. "Evan."

"Moira," he smiled, touched her arm. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Tired, but fine. I was afraid I was going to lose my foot but Carson saved it."

Evan glanced down at her bandaged appendage. "I'm just glad he got to you when he did. Moira, we never intended to leave you behind like that."

"I know," she assured him. "I hope this didn't deter you from returning."

"You want to go back?" he asked, incredulous.

"Yes! There is still a wealth of information and research to explore! Now that we know what we're facing we will be better prepared. Carson says in a month or so I can return to active duty. What better place for me to go?"

Evan shook his head, smiled. "Scientists. All right, we'll see. But I doubt another mission will be approved."

*************************************************************************

Ronon flexed his sore arm. He twirled the light fighting sticks in his hands. Ignored the pain from his injury, focused instead on the whirling weapons.

"Are you certain you are well enough for this?" Teyla asked, eyebrows raised. She studied him.

Ronon shrugged, frowned. A jagged scar ran down his arm. "I've had worse. The muscles are stiff. Beckett said I need to loosen them. And yes, I am myself. Whatever was in that projectile is out of me."

"Good to know," Teyla smiled. She twirled her own sticks. "We begin."

Stick hit stick in an orchestrated dance. Ronon wavered. Teyla held one stick to his throat, stepping close. "You are sloppy."

"I was injured," he countered, attacking in earnest. He backed her up into the center of the room. "Besides, That mutated serum messed with my head. So Beckett said."

"Hmm...that would explain your questionable behavior," she teased. Stick hit stick. Again she bested him. Her stick slid under his to whack him on the thigh.

"Ow! Questionable? You mean hitting Beckett?"

"Yes, among other things. Your continued disregard of Colonel Caldwell. Your words bordered on being insulting."

"He is not our team leader. Sheppard is," he countered glumly.

"True, but on that particular mission Caldwell was. Some of these people are stricter in their rules and regulations than others. In the future I would ask you to be mindful of that. Especially on a mission where our lives could be in jeopardy."

"Yes, teacher. Anything else?" he grumpily asked.

Teyla smiled, knocking a stick out out of his hand. "Yes. We must work on your defenses."

**************************************************************************

John carried the tray, maneuvered through the medical bay. He headed for Moira. She was sitting up in bed, staring at a data pad. Her thoughtful expression had nothing to do with the screen as her gaze wandered to her bandaged foot.

"I thought I'd return the favor," John said, interrupting her reverie. He set the covered plate on the tray table as she met his gaze. She closed the data screen, pushed it aside as he uncovered the food.

"Turkey sandwiches?" she asked with a smile.

"Of course," he smiled, sitting near. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. Saner." She hesitated, suddenly uncomfortable, but his gaze wandered down to her foot. He frowned, studying the bandage.

"I'm sorry I haven't been to see you sooner. Caldwell insisted on several briefings on both missions and all the new intel we've uncovered, not to mention Carson's medical analysis of both Wraith species and the Hoffan serum to–"

"I understand. I'm sure you were busy," she soothed. "Colonel Sheppard, I wanted to apologize."

His eyes met hers. "What's this? Back to colonel again?"

"All right...John," she said slowly. "I wanted to apologize for what I said when you came back. I don't remember much...except for shooting at you."

"Ah...there was that."

"And blaming you. And other, um..."

"There's no need. Except for the shooting." He smirked, touched her hand. "Seriously, Moira, there is no need. You were delirious and you were right to blame me for–"

"No." He scooted closer as her voice fell, her gaze lowered to their hands. She clasped his fingers in hers. "I wasn't right. I did know what I was saying some of the time. I knew you would come back. You had to rescue your team first. Carson explained."

"Carson?" He glanced around, saw the doctor hunched over a microscope. He looked back at Moira. "I didn't mean to leave you. I was shoved into the 'Gate before I could react. People kept saying I didn't have a choice. But I did. I trusted in your expertise to survive until I could reach you. In the end I had to defy a direct order to come back to you."

"You shouldn't have done that!" Her gaze flew up to his.

"I made the choice. Still...I should not have left you injured in the first place."

"You did what you had to do, John. I do understand. I shouldn't have blamed you. I'm sorry. I know I may have...may have acted rather...inappropriately before you left..." She blushed, released his hand, looked down at her foot. "Um...I'm sorry for that too, Colonel Sheppard, for all of it."

He smiled, charmed at her awkwardness, her embarrassment. He caught her hand again and gently squeezed her fingers. "All of it? Even before I left you? I hope not, Doctor O'Meara," he soothed. Before she could speak, meeting his gaze he freed her hand. "Let's eat. Are there any wild turkeys on that planet? I'm just thinking ahead to Thanksgiving."


End file.
